


Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban

by AidanChase



Series: Harry Potter: Everyone Lives AU [4]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Canon Rewrite, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-31
Updated: 2016-01-29
Packaged: 2018-04-12 05:14:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 22
Words: 79,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4466744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AidanChase/pseuds/AidanChase
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry Potter was a highly unusual boy in many ways. Of course, there were many things about Harry that were normal: He loved summer vacation. He loved sports. And most of all, he loved his family.</p><p>--- --- ---</p><p>How different would the world of Harry Potter be if James and Lily had lived?</p><p>
  <i>Ships not listed because I am uncertain if they will deviate from canon. Characters added as they appear.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Owl Post

**Author's Note:**

> it's finally here! Everything is going to be so different, so updates may take longer than usual, but I've got it all outlined, so hopefully it won't take too long. Enjoy! Beta'd by the wonderful ageofzero.

_November 02, 1979_

_Dearest Cissy,_

_I’m afraid this may be the last letter I send. I’ve discovered that the things the Dark Lord plans to do are far worse than we ever imagined. I know Sirius always said I had a weak stomach, and I never wanted to prove him right, but I can’t keep pretending I’m okay with these things._

_Get out while you can. Please, Cissy, I beg you to get out. Don’t tell Bella or your husband where you’re going, but just leave. Things will only get worse._

_I won’t tell you what I’m about to do, for your sake. But I will tell you that the Dark Lord is not all that he claims to be and I will do everything I can to bring him down and protect the people and things that I love._

_You’re truly the only family that I can trust with this. Please don’t let Mother know. It would break her heart, and Father’s health is weak enough as it is._

_And if you do ever see Sirius, tell him I’m sorry._

_Love,_

_Your dearest cousin Reggie_

\--- --- ---

Harry Potter was a highly unusual boy in many ways.

Of course, there were many things about Harry that were normal: He loved summer vacation. He loved sports. And most of all, he loved his family.

However, there were things about Harry that were not normal. For one, Harry was a wizard. Some might not find this strange. There are plenty of witches and wizards who would not be surprised at all by the fact that Harry Potter can do magic, or that he plays his favorite sport on a broomstick high in the air, chasing golden Snitches that fly on their own. But even within the community of wizards, Harry Potter was an odd boy.

For one thing, all witches and wizards knew the name Harry Potter. Everyone knew that as a baby, Harry Potter defeated You-Know-Who. Everyone knew that Harry Potter was marked with a scar that night, and some witches and wizards whispered that Harry Potter was _The Chosen One_.

But what that truly meant for the boy with a scar on his forehead didn’t matter just yet. On this particular night, Harry was doing normal twelve-year-old boy things, like being bored with his homework.

Harry Potter did not find his essay on Witch Burning in the Fourteenth Century particularly interesting. He had just finished a year at his school, Hogwarts, where a threat to witches and wizards born of non-magical parents had been made. He was not feeling particularly sympathetic to witches and the fearful Muggles. He could not seem to get much further than the first two paragraphs in his textbook, _A History of Magic_ , by Bathilda Bagshot.

The old grandfather clock chimed in the hallway--twelve gentle chimes. The clock was magic, like everything else in this house, so after sunset, the clock did not chime loudly. It had no interest in waking the residents of the house or its portraits.

The residents of the Potter Estate were Harry Potter and his parents, Lily and James Potter. It was a large house for three people, but Harry filled it with a lot of energy, as twelve-(or now thirteen)-year-old boys often do.

Of course, at midnight, his parents were sleeping, but Harry was still awake doing homework.

There was a month before school, so he thought finishing his History of Magic essay ridiculous. He’d already completed his Potions homework, with a lot of help from his mother, and his Transfiguration essay, with help from his father. The only person who could help him with History of Magic was Uncle Remus, who was not feeling well. Harry could wait a week until Uncle Remus was better, but he desperately wanted to visit his godfather, Sirius Black, this summer.

Last June, Harry had broken several school rules, risked his own life, and ultimately saved his school. Harry thought he deserved a lot of praise, which he did get. He earned an award for Special Services to the School, and he and Ron had won the House Cup competition for Gryffindor. The only problem was that Harry had two parents who worried about his safety. So Harry was grounded from Quidditch practice and visits with Sirius until his homework was done.

It sounded reasonable a month ago. Now, struggling to finish his history essay at midnight on his birthday, it sounded like the worst punishment his parents could give him.

Harry managed to get an outline of his essay completed by one am. He felt better about the assignment when he learned that burning witches did no harm to witches, who only had to cast a Freezing Charm to protect themselves from the flames.

As the clock chimed gently, he realized he ought to go to bed. But it was summer vacation, and a bedtime was the one punishment his parents had not inflicted on him, so he’d taken to enjoying late nights as his only real form of freedom. He’d considered sneaking out on his Nimbus 2000, but it was locked away in a trunk at the foot of his parents’ bed. He’d already tried _Alohamora_ , but it didn’t budge.

Just as Harry was thinking about climbing the stairs to bed, three owls tumbled through the open window.

An old gray owl, which Harry recognized as Ron Weasley’s family owl, was being helped up by a tiny brown owl. Harry didn’t know who the small owl belonged to, but it was carrying a letter and parcel with the Hogwarts seal on the parchment, so Harry was sure it was his school books list. The third owl was a snowy white barn owl, proud and beautiful.

“Hello, Hedwig,” Harry smiled. 

She flitted up to the table and nipped his finger affectionately, as if she was wishing him a happy birthday.

“What’ve you got there?” he asked in a whisper and untied the letter attached to her leg.

It turned out to be a birthday card from Hermione.

Dear Harry, 

I hope you’re doing well and your parents haven’t given you too much trouble.

I’m on holiday in France at the moment and I didn’t know how I was going to send this to you--what if they’d opened it up in customs?--but then Hedwig turned up! I bought your present by owl-order; there was an advertisement in the _Daily Prophet_. I’ve been getting it delivered. It’s so good to keep up with what’s going on in the wizarding world. Did you see that picture of Ron and his family a week ago? I bet he’s learning loads. I’m really jealous. The ancient Egyptian wizards were fascinating.

There’s some interesting local history of witchcraft here, too. I’ve rewritten my whole History of Magic essay to include some of the things I’ve found out. I hope it’s not too long--it’s two rolls of parchment more than Professor Binns asked for.

Ron says he’s going to be in London the last week of the holidays. Can you make it? I hope your parents don’t keep you grounded all summer. I really hope you can come. If not, I’ll see you on the Hogwarts Express on September first!

Love from,  
Hermione.

Harry had seen the Daily Prophet last week. His mum had shown him the picture of the Weasley family, all nine of them, standing in front of the pyramids waving. He’d found it pretty unfair that Ron got to explore Egypt, and Hermione was off in France, and Harry was stuck at home. It wasn’t like he’d gotten into any more trouble than Ron had.

Before opening Ron’s letter, Harry got the owls snacks and water. While they refreshed themselves, Harry read the letter the Weasley family owl Errol had brought him.

Dear Harry,

Happy birthday!

I hope you’re doing alright. Mum’s just about forgotten my being in trouble, with this trip to Egypt and having all her children in one place. I expect the Special Award we got helped too. I hope yours aren’t being too hard on you.

It’s amazing here in Egypt, by the way. Bill’s taken us around all the tombs and you wouldn’t believe the curses those old Egyptian wizards put on them. Mum wouldn’t let Ginny come in the last one. There were all these mutant skeletons in there, of Muggles who’d broken in and grown extra heads and stuff. I couldn’t believe it when Dad won the Daily Prophet Draw. Seven hundred galleons! Most of it’s gone on this trip, but they’re going to buy me a new wand for next year.

We’ll be back about a week before term starts and we’ll be going up to London to get my wand and our new books. Any chance of meeting you there?

Ron

P.S. Percy’s Head Boy. He got the letter last week.

Harry could almost hear the irritation in Ron’s voice about Percy. Harry remembered when he was eleven and Percy had just gotten his Prefect badge. He’d been quite showy about it, and Harry didn’t think he’d be any better about being Head Boy.

Now that he’d read his friends’ letters, it was time for the presents.

Harry opened the package from Ron first, and out tumbled what looked like a spinning top, except it was made of glass. The ones Sirius had given him from the Muggle stores had been made of wood. Harry had never seen one made of glass before.

The attached note said:

Harry--this is a Pocket Sneakoscope. If there’s someone untrustworthy around, it’s supposed to light up and spin. Bill says it’s rubbish sold for wizard tourists and isn’t reliable, because it kept lighting up at dinner last night. But he didn’t realize Fred and George had put beetles in his soup.

Bye--

Ron

Harry spun the top, but nothing happened. Harry thought it odd he’d never seen a Pocket Sneakoscope before, because he and Sirius had probably found just about every kind of magical toy there was. Maybe this wasn’t a toy. Or maybe it really was a rubbish souvenir.

Next he opened Hermione’s gift. It was heavy, and he was expecting a book from her, but it turned out to be a Broomstick Servicing Kit. He was grateful for it--he’d nearly run out of Fleetwood’s High-Finish Handle Polish at the end of last year--except it made him frustrated he wasn’t allowed to use his broom.

He was about to open the third parcel, that had come with the Hogwarts owl, when he heard a door creak.

Harry looked up and saw his father walk into the kitchen, wearing a bathrobe over his pajamas. He looked blearily at the lit gas lamps and then at Harry.

“You’re still awake?” James asked.

“I wanted to finish this before my birthday,” Harry said, and tapped his parchment.

James took a step back into the hallway to check the grandfather clock. “Ah, I’m sorry you aren’t finished yet, but happy birthday.”

“Thanks.”

“Your mum’s snoring, so I was just going to whip up a light sleeping potion. I see you already got some presents.” As James went into the kitchen, Harry followed.

“Yeah, Ron and Hermione. I think the last one’s from Hagrid. It came with my Hogwarts letter.”

“Wow, summer’s half over already.” James opened up the potions cupboard and pulled down a handful of bottles and jars. “We’ll have to get your school supplies soon.”

While James brewed the potion, Harry chatted about his presents from Ron and Hermione and the gifts they’d given him. When he’d finished telling his father about those, Harry started complaining about his essay. James had a few things to add to it, but not much.

“You should ask Remus on Thursday,” James said.

“But I want to be done with the essay now,” Harry sighed. “I want at least one weekend at Sirius’s.”

“You’ll have plenty of time to spend with Sirius,” James laughed. “Though, I think your mother will agree that one month of grounding is enough. Besides, I miss playing Quidditch with you.”

Harry smiled. He had been suspecting for a while that his father was as gloomy about his grounding as he was. It was his mother who seemed terrified to let him out of the house. In her defense, she’d watched him fight an enormous basilisk at the end of the school year. She had earned some right to be over-protective.

For the half-hour that the sleeping potion simmered, James helped Harry finish his essay on witch burnings. That way they would have something to help argue their case that Harry’s grounding should be lifted.

Harry rolled up the parchment and sealed it. All summer homework was completed.

He went ahead and opened his present from Hagrid while James went to finish off the potion.

Inside the package was a book with scaly green binding, like a dragon’s hide. The title was printed in gold: _Monster Book of Monsters_. Harry didn’t get any further than that, because the book started snapping at his hands. Harry dropped it immediately and it started gnawing on the table leg. He tried to grab it but it bit his hand. He yelped and his father came running.

James saw the book and dove to tackle it, but skittered away on its edge. James’s head hit the china cabinet. Thanks to some old Stabilizing Charms, nothing fell down. But the noise did wake Lily. The gas lamps in the hallway sprang to life and she walked into the kitchen with a robe over her pajamas.

“What is going on in--oh!” The book snapped at her barefeet and she quickly stomped on the cover, squishing the book closed. “Harry, James, what is this?”

James took the tie off of his own bathrobe and tied the book shut. “Harry’s birthday present from Hagrid. I suppose we shouldn’t be surprised.”

“He says I’ll find it useful next year,” Harry said as he read over the birthday card Hagrid had sent him. “I wonder why.” 

“What are the two of you even doing up?” Lily asked as she looked at the letters and wrappings on the table. “James, we’re doing presents in the morning.”

“These are from my friends,” Harry said quickly. “I was up finishing my homework and Hedwig brought them.”

“Oh.” Lily rubbed her eyes with the heel of her hand. “It’s nearly three am. Both of you need to be in bed. Come on.” Lily turned off the gas lamp and the dining room went dark.

“Just got to clean up the potion, Lils,” James said. “Then I’ll be right--”

Before he could finish, a silver swan soared through the window. It passed through the glass, which surprised Harry. And then Harry realized it wasn’t a real swan at all, but some sort of silver projection of a swan.

The swan floated through the glass and came to rest on the table, where it vanished in a gentle burst of light.

“Alice?” Lily asked and turned the light back on. 

“She never was good at the speaking part,” James said. “She’s probably just letting us know she’s Apparating--”

There was a loud knock at the door.

“Harry, can you put the cauldron away?” James asked, and followed Lily to the door.

Harry frowned, but did as his father asked. He had no interest in pressing the issue of being grounded.

He put the potion supplies back in the cupboard and washed out the cauldron, then replaced it under the sink. He was surprised he couldn’t hear his parents talking. The only Alice he knew of was Alice Longbottom, his friend Neville Longbottom’s mother, and she was very loud. He turned the lights out in the kitchen, then the dining room, then poked his head into the hallway.

It truly was Alice Longbottom, still in the entryway. She was talking to his parents in hushed whispers. He only caught the end of it:

“We’ll both stay with you,” Lily said. “Harry’s been wanting to see Sirius anyway. Just give us a bit of time to pack.”

Harry didn’t understand at all. Alice left, and he heard the crack of her Apparating away once she passed the front garden.

“What’s going on?” Harry asked.

“I’m sorry, Harry,” James said. “Your mother and I are going to stay with the Longbottoms for a few days. You know we wouldn’t do this if it wasn’t important.”

Lily leaned over and kissed his forehead. “You’ll stay with Sirius while we’re there, okay? I’m sure you two will have a wonderful time.”

Harry was not very used to ruined birthdays. Last year had been the first disaster, visiting his Muggle cousin. This year, he’d expected to be ungrounded for his birthday, and to fly his broom again. But instead, he was being sent off to Sirius’s while his parents went to stay with someone else?

“I’m so sorry,” Lily said. “You know we love you, and we would never do this if it wasn’t an emergency. Go get your things you’ll want to take to Sirius’s. We’ll need to leave quickly.”

Harry grabbed the Sneakoscope and Broomstick Servicing Kit off the dining room table. He left behind the biting book.


	2. Uncle Sirius's Big Mistake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry's impromptu stay at Sirius's Muggle flat goes on for longer than anyone expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for all your wonderful comments! I'm overwhelmed by how excited everyone is for this book. I hope it lives up to your expectations!
> 
> Shout out to ageofzero, my wonderful beta. I could not have gotten through this chapter without them.
> 
> And lastly, I'm looking for someone to beta some PJO fic so hmu if you're interested in that.

Harry generally liked Sirius’s flat. It was a Muggle flat, complete with electricity and pens. He also really liked spending time with Sirius.

Harry had known Sirius his entire life, and Harry could not imagine a better godfather. Sirius let him get away with pranks, helped him break small rules, and took him on motorcycle rides. Twice, Sirius had actually flown the motorbike for Harry, and neither of them ever breathed a word of it to Lily and James.

So Harry really didn't think he should be upset that he was spending his birthday with Sirius. But he was upset. He’d expected more for his thirteenth birthday.

He had known that Uncle Remus probably wouldn’t be well enough to celebrate his birthday. It had happened twice before. The first was on Harry's fifth birthday, when he was too young to understand why Remus was sick, and too young to really notice except in memory. Then, three years later, the full moon had fallen on Harry’s eighth birthday. That was the year he had wanted to spend his birthday helping his mother prepare Remus's potion. That was the year he'd even asked to try it, to see how it tasted, and Remus had told him he had more grace and kindness than Lily, which had meant a lot to Harry because his mother was the kindest person he knew.

This year again, Remus was ill, and his best friends were traveling, so Harry had resolved to be content to celebrate with just Sirius and his parents.

But instead, his parents left him on Sirius's doorstep with hasty goodbyes and urgent whispers Harry couldn't make out. He remembered at the end of the last school year when his parents had promised there would be no more secrets between them. Harry wanted to remind them of that promise, but they were gone too quickly, and he was left alone with Sirius. For the second year in a row, Harry was disappointed with his birthday.

"We'll have a good time," Sirius promised. "Tell you what, we can stay up the rest of the night and marathon James Bond films, and tomorrow we can bake a real birthday cake, Muggle style and everything, in an electric oven."

Harry thought those things sounded fun, but he would have liked to have his parents with him.

Harry put his hastily packed trunk in the spare bedroom and settled down on the couch with Sirius. Though the movie was on, Harry's thoughts were elsewhere.

“Did something happen to Mr. Longbottom?” Harry asked Sirius, not at all interested watching Sean Connery flirt with Shirley Eaton.

“No, Frank's alright.”

“What about Neville?”

“Staying with his grandmother. Honestly, Harry, I can’t hear.”

But Harry did not want to watch the movie or eat popcorn. Sirius had seen the film anyway, so he kept pressing. “If Mum and Dad are with Mr. and Mrs. Longbottom, and you're watching me, what is Uncle Remus going to do?”

“Your Mum can still make his potion.”

“But won't he be alone?”

“He'll be fine. You're worrying too much.”

Harry did not think he was worrying too much. He thought he was right to be worried about his parents and Neville and Uncle Remus, and he really wished someone would tell him what was happening.

Sirius stopped answering his questions after that and only managed to stay awake through two movies. He was dead asleep by the climax of _For Your Eyes Only_ , and even though Harry never had any interest to begin with, he was unable to fall asleep.

When the VHS tape finished rolling through the credits, and the screen turned to black and white static, and even that didn't wake Sirius, Harry decided he might as well entertain himself. 

He was out of homework, and Sirius's flat was far too small to ride a broom in, so Harry took his favorite book from his trunk--a collection of notes and letters that had been compiled by someone in Sirius's family and hidden in Sirius's family home.

Sirius had given the book to Harry for his birthday last year, and Harry had learned a lot of exciting curses from it. One he had used to turn Draco Malfoy's nose green. Harry had gotten a face of boils in return, but it had been a satisfactory duel.

Besides the the dark spells, there were notes taken during the First Wizarding War, and a lot of letters. Whoever had compiled the book must have been through a lot of different people's things. Harry wondered what sort of person would steal old letters to put in a book and why, but the book had yielded no clues to either of those answers.

Based on the letters, and the few details he knew about Sirius’s past, Harry had put together a vague picture of Sirius's family.

The people he knew the most about were Regulus and Narcissa, who popped up frequently in the letters. They mentioned mothers and aunts, so Harry guessed they were cousins. They mentioned a girl named “Drommie” a few times, and Harry surmised she was someone's cousin, who left the family in a disgrace similar to Sirius.

Harry also knew Narcissa married someone named Lucius, who Harry guessed was Draco's father. Harry didn't like to think that Sirius was related to Draco Malfoy, but it seemed plausible.

Other than that, however, Harry had little idea of who the people in the letters were. And every time he pressed Sirius, he got vague, noncommittal answers.

By the light of the static from the television, Harry read through some of the old letters that were addressed to Sirius. All of them were from Regulus Black. Harry knew Sirius had run away at the age of sixteen and gone to live with James. Some of the letters from Regulus to Sirius were dated after that, which Harry found odd. Sirius had always said he had no contact with his family after leaving. Harry knew for a fact Sirius had only just gone back to his family home within the last eighteen months, even though his family had been dead for years.

The static turned off, the VHS player began to automatically rewind the tape, and the TV switched to basic channels. When he heard pleasant talk show hosts and laughter, Harry realized it had turned morning at some point.

He set down the the letters and decided to make himself breakfast and a cup of tea. 

Breakfast at Sirius’s was usually toast or eggs and Harry didn’t feel comfortable using a Muggle stove without supervision, so he put some bread in the toaster. Even though he didn’t like the stove, Harry liked using the electric kettle. Mostly because it shut off all by itself and he thought that incredibly clever.

Fortified with toast and tea, Harry went back to the living room. He found Sirius awake, looking over the letters he’d left lying out. They were mostly letters from Regulus to Narcissa. Harry had started organizing the letters into Narcissa categories and Sirius categories. He’d been going over the Narcissa ones, trying to figure out who Drommie was.

“Where did you get these?” Sirius asked. His voice was low, and Harry had a feeling it wasn’t because he’d just woken up.

“They were in the book you gave me for my birthday last year.” Harry knew Sirius would avoid an answer, but he asked anyway, “Is Regulus your brother?”

“Regulus was… something.”

“Did he die?”

“We are dead to each other, I believe,” was Sirius’s answer. He had a small smile on the corner of his mouth, like he was trying to be funny. Harry didn’t think it was funny.

“He sounded like he cared about you. Even after you left.” Harry flipped through the book and pulled out one of the letters he’d found tucked in an extra pocket. The pocket had been sealed magically, but the Charm had worn off and Harry found the corner of the letter poking out of it. He and Hermione had gotten it all the way open just before they’d left Hogwarts for the summer. He handed the letter to Sirius.

Harry didn’t know if Regulus Black was still alive, but the last letter he’d found from Regulus to anyone was this letter, dated 1979, a year before Harry had been born. The letter sounded like Regulus Black was recanting his belief in Lord Voldemort, and whatever drastic measures he was going to take to leave Voldemort would end in his death. As far as Harry could tell from the later letters, Regulus really had died. There were two separate mentions of his disappearance, shortly after that last letter. It made Harry wonder who put this book together.

“My brother,” Sirius began slowly, and Harry realized it was the first time Sirius had directly addressed Regulus as family, “was always very good with his words, but his actions did not always match. He had my mother’s flare for believable lies.”

“If he died fighting Voldemort, doesn’t that make him a hero?”

Sirius sighed heavily and folded the letter up. He tucked it into his robes and stood. “My brother didn’t die fighting Voldemort he--” Sirius broke off, gaze fixed on the television, so Harry looked to see what was so distracting.

The lady on the morning news said, “The public is warned that Black is armed and extremely dangerous. A special hotline has been set up, and any sighting of Black should be reported immediately.”

And they cut to a picture. It wasn’t a moving picture, like Harry was used to, but a still image, common in Muggle newspapers. Harry usually thought it odd that even on the television they used still pictures, but that thought didn’t occur him to this time. He was too preoccupied with the striking resemblance between the photograph of the man on the television and his godfather.

The escaped convict was thinner, with darker shadows under his eyes, and his long hair was matted. But Sirius and the criminal Black shared the same high cheekbones, striking nose, and dark, determined eyes.

“Is one of your family a Muggle convict then?” Harry asked. 

But Sirius didn’t answer. He only said, in a low, gravelly voice, “I’m going to make some tea. Do you want any?”

Harry didn’t bring Sirius’s family up again. 

It was Harry’s birthday, so Sirius borrowed a recipe from one of his neighbors--a nice Muggle woman, with three children, who reminded Harry of a younger Mrs. Weasley--and they baked a real Muggle cake, with all Muggle ingredients, in a Muggle oven and everything. As far as birthdays went, it wasn’t the most exciting thing Harry had ever had, but it was definitely fun.

He got letters from his parents that evening, telling him everything was fine, they were safe, the Longbottoms were safe, and they would see him in a few days and they would open all his birthday presents then.

\--- --- ---

A few days was a lot longer than Harry anticipated.

The third day at Sirius’s, while Harry and Sirius were having lunch, Nymphadora Tonks arrived.

Harry didn’t know Tonks very well. She was older than him by several years, the same age as Charlie Weasley. She’d babysat him maybe twice when he was younger, on the rare occasion that neither Sirius nor Remus could cover for his parents. He liked the fact that her hair was never the same color for very long, and he liked the way she made weird faces when large family parties got boring. But other than that, Harry didn’t know much about her.

“Do you want something to eat?” Sirius asked as he led Tonks into the kitchen.

“I’m okay,” she said, but her voice didn’t sound okay. She sounded a bit strained. Harry didn’t miss the way her eyes flicked towards him and back at Sirius. He got the feeling she wanted him to leave.

“Sirius,” Harry said, “I’m going to go review my History of Magic essay.”

If Sirius thought that sounded suspicious, he didn’t show it. “Sure. Let me know if you need any help with it.”

Harry didn’t think Sirius was very good at History of Magic, but maybe Sirius really hadn’t been listening to what Harry said. Which worked fine for Harry. He left the kitchen, but stayed just behind the door. It wasn’t the first time he’d decided to eavesdrop on conversations he wasn’t supposed to hear.

“My mother wrote me in a panic yesterday,” Tonks said quietly. “She seems to think he might come after me.”

“Everyone thinks he’s going to come for them,” Sirius sighed heavily.

“I’m worried he’s going to come after you.”

“He won’t find me.”

Harry couldn’t imagine who they were talking about. Was it Voldemort? But Harry didn’t understand why that would be a concern now. Had something happened? He pressed his ear closer to the door.

“I know James and Lily obviously think you’re safe, because they trusted Harry with you, but honestly, all the stories Mum’s told me about her family.... I remember being terrified until I was eight of some crazy aunt named Bella that would come and snatch me away in the middle of the night. If blood meant anything to him--”

“Drommie’s always been rightfully paranoid of Bella.”

Harry’s heart raced. He knew Tonks and Sirius were cousins of some sort, but Sirius was also cousins of a sort with Molly Weasley. Sirius was related to everyone in some way. But if Tonks’s mother was Drommie, and Bella was Tonks’s aunt, that information could answer some of his questions about the letters.

“But Regulus,” Sirius continued, and Harry pressed as close to the kitchen door as he dared, “only cared about impressing Voldemort. That seems obvious, given his final actions. He’ll go after James or Lily to avenge Voldemort, or Frank and Alice to finish what he started. If you ask me, he knows he can’t take on all four of them, and he’s trying to gather some old friends together.”

“I’ve been reading all the Auror reports,” Tonks said, and her voice was anxious. “No one’s seen him. No undercover agents, no turned Death Eaters, no one. If that was his plan, we would have picked up something.”

“They’ll catch him soon, and you won’t have to worry about it.”

“But I’m worried because we’ve heard nothing. Maybe he’s not looking for support, but hunting for you or me or my mum or--or even Harry.”

“Nymphadora--”

“Sirius Black.”

Harry heard the chairs scraping the linoleum flooring and quickly sat down on the couch. He grabbed the nearest piece of paper--a letter from Bellatrix to Narcissa he’d read a few months ago--and pretended to be very interested in it.

But truthfully, he was trying to fit together what he’d just heard about Regulus. What final actions was Sirius talking about? As far as Harry knew, Regulus’s last action had been in defiance of the Dark Lord. And why the Longbottoms? He wondered how to get information out of Sirius, but Sirius, who so often let slip secrets Harry's parents tried to keep, was full of ready non-answers about his family. 

Sirius and Tonks came out of the kitchen. He walked her to the door.

“Bye Harry,” Tonks said with a cheerful smile. “Good luck with your essay.”

“Thanks,” Harry said, trying to match her smile.

“Oh, and Remus says happy birthday. He’s sorry he missed it.”

“You saw Remus?” Sirius raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah, popped over there just after breakfast today. Thought I’d surprise him and congratulate him on the new job.” Harry thought her cheeks looked a little pink. “Anyway, I probably should’ve owled first. He didn’t look like he was feeling too well.”

“New job?” Sirius asked, and Harry was glad that Sirius was just as bewildered as he was.

“He was nice about it though. Let me talk about my mum and everything. Told me I should probably talk to you, and asked me to wish Harry a happy birthday. He said he’d get you two presents at Christmas to make up for missing your birthday.”

Harry thought that kind, but unnecessary. “Thanks. I’ll have to write him a letter.” And Harry thought that Remus might be the best person to ask his questions to. If he phrased them just right, Remus might give him the answers he was looking for.

\--- --- ---

Dear Remus,

I hope you’re doing better. Tonks said you didn’t look too good, but was that just because she doesn’t know how bad the full moon gets? Or is it worse than usual?

Sirius said you wouldn’t be alone, so I hope Mum was able to make your potion alright, and Dad was able to be with you. Do Mr. and Mrs. Longbottom know about it? That would make it easier, I think.

Thanks for the birthday wishes! You really don’t need to get me two presents at Christmastime. If you really want to get me a birthday present, you should just come visit me and Sirius. It’s been just us which was fun for maybe two days. I miss you and Mum and Dad. Coming to visit will be enough of a birthday present.

Do you know anything about Sirius’s family? Or what’s happening to Neville’s family? Sirius, Mum, and Dad won’t tell me anything, even though they promised me last year we wouldn’t have anymore secrets.

Please come visit soon.

Love,

Harry

\--- --- ---

Dear Harry,

I appreciate your concern, but nothing unusual happened. Your mother made the potion, and your father stayed with me. Mr. and Mrs. Longbottom are perfectly fine. I think The Ministry is being unusually cautious because they’ve never had something like this happen before.

Sirius never bothers to read the Daily Prophet, so I’m sorry you’ve been out of the loop. I don’t know why your parents are keeping some things from you, but I’ve included the article from the Daily Prophet. I hope this answers some of your questions.

I will try to visit soon.

Love,

Remus

\--- --- ---

BLACK STILL AT LARGE  
Regulus Black, possibly the most infamous prisoner ever to be held in Azkaban fortress, is still eluding capture, the Ministry of Magic confirmed today.

“We are doing all we can to recapture Black,” said the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, this morning, “and we beg the magical community to remain calm.”

Fudge has been criticized by some of the members of the international federation for Warlocks for informing the Muggle Prime Minister of the crisis.

“Well, really, I had to, don’t you know,” said an irritable Fudge. “Black is mad. He’s a danger to anyone who crosses him, magic or Muggle. I have the Prime Minister’s assurance that he will not breathe a word of Black’s true identity to anyone. And let’s face it--who’d believe him if he did?”

While Muggles have been told that Black is carrying a gun (a kind of metal wand that Muggles use to kill each other), the magical community lives in fear of the return of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. It is well-known that Black was an active supporter of You-Know-Who, and a member of You-Know-Who’s inner circle. The Ministry intends to catch Black before he can build enough support to restart the war.

\--- --- ---

Dear Harry,

Your mother and I are so sorry this is taking so long. We thought the Ministry would have taken care of everything by now, but it’s taking much longer than they expected.

We are both fine, and so are Mr. and Mrs. Longbottom. They’re as anxious about being separated from Neville as we are about being separated from you. But I trust you’re safe with Sirius, and I trust you two aren’t driving each other crazy.

I know you’re probably upset with us, and we completely understand. We deserve it. We promise we’ll explain everything when we see you.

We included your birthday presents. Hopefully it makes being stuck in Sirius’s flat a little easier.

Love,

Mum and Dad

\--- --- ---

Three more days went by. Harry was getting very anxious being stuck in such a small space. His parents had sent him three galleons and Gilderoy Lockhart’s newest book-- _Who Am I?_ \--which would have been funny if he wasn’t so irritated with them. And, finally, their third present, was a New Edition of Exploding Snap (with FlashBangsTM), which was fun for about two hours.

Usually, Sirius took Harry out on all sorts of Muggle adventures, but they hadn’t left the flat once this week. Harry couldn’t understand it. All Sirius wanted to do was stay inside, play games, watch movies--Harry needed to get out. He needed to fly his broom or go into a shop or anything other than sitting inside the flat.

He also wanted to know more about Regulus and Sirius’s family, but Sirius was not forthcoming with answers. He was getting tired of Sirius’s evasiveness, and Sirius was getting tired of Harry’s questions. It was not a good end to the week.

Uncle Remus arrived on evening of the sixth day of Harry’s stay with Sirius, and it was like a breath of fresh air. Harry didn’t think he could be happier to see anyone, except maybe his parents.

Remus looked good for four days after the full moon. He had color and a comfortable smile. Harry was glad to see it, because even though Remus had assured him everything was fine, he’d learned that Remus often said things were fine when they weren’t.

Harry gave Remus a big hug when he walked in the door.

“Happy belated birthday,” Remus said with a smile.

Harry got out the last piece of the cake he and Sirius had made and the three of them finished it off.

“It’s a little stale,” Harry said, “but it was good when we made it.”

“Harry’s a good cook,” Sirius said.

“I just wish I was better in Potions.”

“I think we can safely blame Snape for your lack of ability in Potions.”

Harry wasn’t so sure.

“Don’t worry about it,” Remus said with a small smile, as he took a bite of his cake. “I was never very good at Potions when I was in school.”

“Remus,” Sirius started slowly, “Tonks said you have a new job?”

Remus cleared his throat. “Yes. That’s… part of why I came over. I wanted to tell you in person. I thought Nymphadora might have a bit more discretion about that.”

“What’s the job?” Harry knew that Remus struggled to hold down jobs, or even to get one at all. He knew it had something to do with a bit of anti-werewolf legislation passed about a year ago, but ever since then, Remus had been barely supporting himself with odd jobs, and James and Lily were taking care of the rest.

“Well,” Remus said with a small smile, “I’m going to be your new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.”

“That’s incredible!” Harry said excitedly.

Sirius did not look quite so excited. “Congratulations,” he said.

“I know it means I won’t be around often,” Remus said, “but Lily and James still have the cottage in Hogsmeade.”

“I think it’ll be great,” Harry said. “I won’t have to write to you for help with my essays anymore. And you’ll be at least as good a teacher as Mum, if not better.”

“I don’t know about better.” Remus set the half finished cake down on the table. “I’m not exactly Order of Merlin First Class or anything.”

“Yes, but you’re not my mum,” Harry laughed.

Sirius still looked unhappy. Harry couldn’t really understand why. It should be great news that Remus had a real, steady job. It was something Remus had wanted for a long time.

Harry wasn’t sure what else to do, so he took the dishes off the table and to the sink. He opened the refrigerator. “Sirius, I think you’re out of milk for tea,” Harry said.

“Used the last of it yesterday. I can go to the store when… when your parents get back.”

“I’ll go for you,” Remus said. “I assume you’re not leaving because of--”

Sirius hastily cleared his throat. “That’s nice of you to offer, Remus. Let me get you some Muggle money. There’s a shop on the corner.”

Harry was not stupid. Sirius was hiding something. He’d been hiding something all week. His parents were hiding something from him, too, and Remus knew what all of it was.

They were gone long enough that Harry knew they’d discussed something important, but he hadn’t a clue what it was. He only glared sourly at Sirius as Sirius led Remus to the door.

“Can’t I go with Remus?” Harry asked.

“No,” Remus said. “Not this time.” Remus paused on the threshold and added, “Sirius, tell him.”

Sirius looked as pouty as Harry for a moment, then finally grumbled, “Fine.”

Remus nodded and closed the door behind him.

“Tell me what?” Harry tried not to sound too eager.

Sirius sat down on the couch and motioned for Harry to do the same. “Harry, I… You know I don’t like talking about my family. And I know you’re very interested in them because I gave you that ridiculous book, but believe me when I tell you there isn’t anything interesting about them.”

Harry really didn’t agree, but he said nothing. He had no desire to irritate Sirius when he was so close to answers.

“You know that Regulus Black was my brother. You told me that you thought he died, but he didn’t. He’s been in Azkaban these last twelve years. And a week ago, he escaped. He was very close to Voldemort, and a lot of people are afraid he will try to take revenge on them. Your parents and Neville’s parents are at the top of the list. The Ministry is very concerned he will come after them, and so they’re together both to keep each other safe, and so the Ministry can keep an eye on them. It should also, hopefully, stop him from coming after you or Neville, if you two are hidden, and your parents are out in the open.”

Even though he’d read the article in the Daily Prophet, Harry still felt like this Regulus Black didn’t quite match the one who’d written all those letters to Sirius. “Why would he come after me and Neville? We would have been babies when he went to Azkaban.”

“Harry… Death Eaters are awful people. They only want to hurt others. And if anything were to happen to you or to Neville, it would hurt your parents very much.”

Harry reached for the notebook he’d left lying on the end table beside the couch. “And you’re hiding from him too?”

“There’s a lot of bad blood between Regulus and I. He might come looking for me, but the likelihood that he would look in a Muggle town is very slim. And then Tonks’s mother is my cousin, which makes her Regulus’s cousin. Andromeda left the family in as much disgrace as I did, so she is a little worried Regulus might come after her or her daughter.”

Andromeda, or as she was known in the letters, Drommie. Harry flipped through some of the letters. “So, you and Regulus are brothers. Andromeda is your cousin. Are Narcissa and Bellatrix your cousins too?”

Sirius looked as if Harry was trying to yank his teeth out, rather than just asking questions about his family relations. “Yes. Bellatrix is the oldest, and she went to Azkaban with Regulus. Narcissa is the youngest, and your friend Draco’s mother.”

Harry felt a little proud that he’d correctly figured that last part out. How many people in the wizarding world named Lucius could there be, anyway? “And you’re sure that Regulus deserved to be in Azkaban?” Harry pressed.

Sirius frowned. “He did a lot of awful things, Harry. I told you not to believe whatever letters he’d written in that book.”

Harry did not see what reason Regulus would have to lie in these letters. “He seems so honest. Maybe there was some sort of misunderstanding. Do you know what it is he did, to take down You-Know-Who?”

“I don’t think he did anything,” Sirius sighed. “I think you’re too invested in that book.”

“You have to admit it doesn’t make sense.” Harry pulled out the letter he’d show Sirius a week ago. “Why would he write a letter to Narcissa about going to die? He wanted out.”

“But he didn’t leave. He stayed, for another two years after he wrote that letter. The things my brother did during the war--” Sirius voice seemed to trip over those words, and Harry realized it was the second time Sirius called Regulus his brother, without putting it in the past tense. 

Sirius took the letter and the book from Harry. “I think I ought to take this book back. It’s too much for you.”

Harry quickly got to his feet. “Hey! You gave it to me. There’s nothing wrong with it.”

“You can’t trust anyone in this book,” Sirius said sharply. “I gave it to you because there were spells in here, not so you could sympathize with Death Eaters!” His voice was close to shouting.

It was not the first time Harry and Sirius had fought. Sirius had often played a joke on Harry that went too far, and Harry had returned the favor with the help of a few garden snakes over the last few years. But they had never fought like this, over something so serious to the both of them.

It wasn’t that Harry knew Regulus, but he did know Sirius. He knew how much Sirius’s family had hurt him. He knew that even though Sirius pretended not to care, there were parts of Sirius that truly longed for his family. And when he’d read those letters from Regulus, he saw an opportunity to bring them back together. He thought those letters would make Sirius happy. He had not expected this fight.

“I’m not sympathizing with Death Eaters, I just think you might be able to save your brother! Tonks said herself he’s not looking for Death Eaters. Maybe he’s just scared. Maybe he just wants to do the right thing! He didn’t break any friends out of prison. You don’t know what he wants.”

“I think I know my brother better than you do!”

“How? You won’t even read the letters he wrote to you!”

“I read them when he sent them, and I do not need to read them again.” And without warning, Sirius grabbed his wand from the coffee table and set the book on fire.

“Stop it!” Harry reached for Sirius’s wand, but as much as he’d grown this last year, he was not nearly tall enough. “Sirius, stop!” They tumbled into the couch and by the time Harry got his hand on Sirius’s wand, the book was nothing but a pile of ash.

Harry didn’t even know what he was doing. He was angry. He was hurt. It wasn’t fair. He stormed into the guest room, threw the books he’d gotten out into his trunk, and left Sirius’s flat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, comments, critiques, and headcanons appreciated!


	3. The Knight Bus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry finds out more about Regulus Black from a very odd young man and a very incompetent Minister of Magic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your lovely comments. I enjoy reading them so much. I try to update every Friday, unless I get stuck on a particularly difficult chapter. This shouldn't happen with this book, though, seeing how I've read through it three times now and have a pretty solid plan. So expect chapters to be posted every Thursday night or Friday afternoon.
> 
> And as always, a wonderful thanks to ageofzero, the best beta I've ever had, who listens to all my agonizing over plot and helps me keep Harry and Lily believably childlike and adultlike.

Harry didn’t look back, and he didn’t hear Sirius following him. He only kept walking and then suddenly realized he had no idea where he was. The trouble with Apparating between places: he wasn’t at all sure how the world connected. He realized he was stranded, quite alone, in the dark Muggle world.

He could go back the way he came. He could apologize to Sirius, but he didn’t know what he had to apologize for. He could talk to Remus, but he figured Remus would simply scold him for being so rash. He could try to find his parents, but his heart sank into his stomach as he realized he only just barely got off being in trouble for all the things he did at school last year, and when his parents found out he ran away from Sirius’s flat, he’d never ride a broom again.

Harry looked around and saw that he’d wandered out of the collection of flats where Sirius lived and into a different neighborhood entirely. He could tell it was different because the buildings were painted a mint-green instead of the dusty blue of Sirius’s complex. It also had a nice park adjacent to it, which Harry knew Sirius’s building did not have. Harry sat down next to the entrance to the park and turned his wand over in his hands.

It was clear at some point he would have to apologize for running away. But he was still so angry at Sirius for burning the book that he wasn’t sure he was ready to apologize. Not even to Remus. He didn’t know how to make anyone understand how frustrated he was with Sirius and his parents and everything that was wrong this week.

Before Harry could decide where to go, the bushes next to him rustled. He scrambled to his feet and tightened his grip on his wand. It was probably just a stray cat, but it could be Sirius sniffing him out. He did not need Sirius to bite his sleeve and drag him back home. 

Harry squinted through the dim light, trying to make out the shape of a large black dog in the bushes, but the light was not enough. He put his wand out, but didn’t dare use Lumos and have the Trace catch him.

Then a stray cat shot out of the bushes like an Every Flavor Bean from Peeves’s nose and darted across the street. Startled, Harry fell over onto his trunk and there was a loud bang and a blinding light. Harry opened his eyes to a large, bright purple bus with three levels and gold lettering that read The Knight Bus.

Harry hadn’t meant to stick his wand out over the street, but maybe this bus was his ticket away from Sirius.

The door opened and the conductor, a young boy, not much older than Harry, stepped out.

“Welcome to the Knight Bus, emergency transport for the stranded witch or wizard. Just stick out your wand hand, step on board, and we can take you anywhere you want to go. My name is Stan Shunpike, and I will be your conductor this even--” He suddenly noticed Harry, still topped over his trunk and frowned. “What’re you doin’ down there?”

Harry quickly scrambled to his feet and grabbed his trunk. He also flattened his bangs over his forehead. “Fell over.”

“‘Choo fall over for?”

“I didn’t do it on purpose.”

Stan Shunpike did not look very impressed with Harry’s story and said, “Woss your name?”

Harry said the first thing that popped into his head--“Neville Longbottom.”

“Longbottom? You better get in then. Don’t want that Black catchin’ you. Come on, come on.” Stan grabbed Harry’s trunk from him and led him inside. The inside of the bus had no seats, only tall brass beds from front to back. Stan put Harry’s trunk under a bed near the driver. “Where you headed?” he asked.

Harry pulled out one of the Gallons he’d gotten for his birthday. “The Leaky Cauldron, please.” He could stay there at least one night and owl his parents that he was not going to spend another minute with Sirius and they should take him home immediately, or let him stay at the Leaky Cauldron.

“Choo want hot ‘ot chocolate? Four more sickles for that and a ‘ot water bottle an’ a toofbrush in the color of your choice.”

“Hot chocolate would be great,” Harry said, and took back the sickles Stan handed him as change.

Harry sat down on the bed as Stan introduced him to the driver, Ernie Prang. Harry self-consciously flattened his bangs as Ernie looked him over, but he didn’t have long to worry that the driver or Stan might recognize his scar. The bus took off with a bang and Harry was thrown flat against his bed.

Harry adjusted to the speed and gratefully took hot chocolate from Stan. He sipped at it quietly while they dropped off another passenger. Between stops, Stan was reading the Daily Prophet and Harry saw the same article that Remus had sent him a few days before, about Regulus Black.

While Stan led Madam Marsh--a small witch who looked green from the Knight Bus’s speed--off the bus, Harry picked up the newspaper and looked at the article.

“What did Regulus Black do, exactly?” Harry asked. “The article is a bit vague, isn’t it?”

“Wha’ choo mean, you don’ know?” Stan frowned at Harry. “Though’ choo said your name was Longbottom.”

Goosebumps prickled on Harry’s arms as he looked at the picture of Regulus Black on the front page. “Er--I’m not close with my family,” Harry said. The resemblance to Sirius was striking, but Regulus was far thinner, and his eyes seemed dark in a completely different way. The sallow look of his skin reminded Harry of Uncle Remus’s vampire friends.

He felt a small pang of guilt about running from Remus. But it wasn’t bad enough to ask Stan to turn the Knight Bus around.

“You know Black woz a big supporter of You-Know-’Oo. Second-in-command, they say. An’ when little ‘Arry Potter got the better of You-Know-’Oo--”

Harry flattened his bangs.

“--they say Black when mad with rage. The fing is, no one ‘ad seen ‘im in years. He’d been skulking around doin’ wha’ever You-Know-’Oo wanted done, and then suddenly ‘is master’s jus’ gone. So he turns up outta no’ere, probably wanted to go after the Potters’ since they’re the ones tha’ killed You-Know-’Oo, but they were in hidin’ by then, so he wen’ after the Aurors that hid them, Frank and Alice Longbottom. You related to ‘em and you don’ know the story?”

“Distant relations,” Harry said, and thought it was probably true anyway, since his father and Neville’s parents were all purebloods.

“Well, Black is no reasonable man. He an’ his friends, other supporters of You-Know-’Oo tortured the Longbottoms. It took four more Aurors to bring ‘im in. Laughin’ as they dragged him off to Azkaban. He’s mad as anyfink, innee, Ern?”

Harry looked over to the driver, who shivered in his seat.

“If he weren’t when he went to Azkaban, he will be now,” said Ern in a slow voice. “I’d blow meself up before I set foot in that place. Serves him right, mind you… after what he did….”

“An’ now ‘e’s out,” said Stan, and he took the picture back from Harry. He looked over Regulus Black’s face again. “Never been a breakout from Azkaban before, ‘as there, Ern? Beats me ‘ow ‘e did it. Frightenin’ eh? Mind, I don’ fancy ‘is chances against them Azkaban guards, eh, Ern?”

Ernie shivered. “Talk about summat else, Stan, there’s a good lad. Them Azkaban guards give me the collywobbles.”

Harry knew a bit about Dementors. There were horror stories that said they sucked your soul from your body and kept it in lanterns that they used to light the halls of Azkaban. He didn’t know how true those stories were, but he did remember how Hagrid had looked when he came back from Azkaban. Hagrid had been in Azkaban less than a month, and he came back with a distant and haunted look in his eyes. He’d cheered up during the celebrations that evening, but there was still something different in him.

Harry had no desire to ever find out what Dementors were really like.

Ern stopped the bus in front of the Leaky Cauldron and Harry stepped out. Stan grabbed his trunk.

Harry stood on the sidewalk and reached back for his trunk. “Thanks for the chocolate--”

But Stan wasn’t paying attention to him. He was staring wide-eyed at the entrance to the Leaky Cauldron.

“There you are, Neville!” a voice said, and before Harry could even turn around and correct the person, there was a hand on his shoulder.

Harry looked up and saw Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic himself. Cornelius looked down at him, startled. “Goodness! You’re not Neville at all!”

“No, sir, I’m not,” Harry said. He didn’t understand why the Minister of Magic would be looking for Neville of all people.

“You’re not Neville?” Stan said, still goggling at the Minister.

“This is Harry Potter,” the Minister said, “who is also not supposed to be running around London without supervision. I thought you sent a message saying Neville Longbottom was on the Knight Bus.”

“I told Ern this was Neville Longbottom. Ern musta sent the message on ahead. Didn’ think it was smart for a boy named Longbottom to be out this time o’ night.”

“Yes, very, er, wise,” the Minister said. “Well, thank you very much, and have a wonderful evening.”

Harry couldn’t imagine how all this was about Neville, and he really wished the Minister would leave and go find Neville instead of taking him home, but he really didn’t know how to protest as Fudge led him inside the pub.

Tom, the old landlord and bartender, brought them a pot of tea, and Fudge anxiously checked his watch.

“I suppose you know who I am,” Fudge said as he poured the tea for himself and Harry.

“Yessir.” Harry didn’t think it wise to mention he’d seen Cornelius Fudge at Hogwarts last year, when Hagrid had been taken to Azkaban, but he had definitely seen Fudge in the Daily Prophet.

“Do your parents know where you are, Harry?”

“No, sir.” Harry sipped at the hot tea. “I was going to send them an owl when I got here, honest.”

“Where do they think you are?” Fudge continued to check his watch.

Harry wondered what he was waiting for. “With my godfather. See, they’re staying with Mr. and Mrs. Longbottom and--”

“Yes, I know where your parents are. I asked them to stay with the Longbottoms.” He snapped his watch closed. He cleared his throat and turned all his attention onto Harry. Harry realized he liked it better when Fudge was looking at his watch.

“Harry, listen, you need to be more careful. What with criminals running loose, there’s no telling what sort of danger is out there. We are doing everything we can to catch Black, but he’s--”

Harry suddenly put together what he had overheard from Nymphadora, his conversation with Sirius, and what Stan had told him. And the pieces that didn’t make sense--like why Harry and Neville could not stay with their parents this week--suddenly came together. “You’re using my parents as bait. And he’s not taking it.”

Fudge looked startled at the interruption. “No, no of course not. We just thought that he might go after your parents or Neville’s, or even you or Neville, so we made sure you two were safe first, of course, and decided it would be easier to protect your parents if they were all together.”

But Harry had grown up with four very excellent liars, and Fudge was not even close to being an excellent liar. “Protect our parents? What sort of protection are you giving them if it’s not safe for me and Neville?”

Cleared his throat. “Excuse me, while I notify your parents you arrived. We were quite sure you were safe, and now we’re not sure where Neville Longbottom is--well, I’m sure Neville is absolutely fine. Excuse me, one moment. Have a biscuit.”

He shoved the plate of pastries towards Harry, but Harry was quite full from cake, cocoa, and tea. He watched the Minister disappear to a room separate from the main bar and close the door behind him. Harry nudged his trunk with his foot and pushed a spoon around in his cup of tea. So much for his night away from Sirius. He’d be sent right back any minute.

But he did like that he’d learned something, and he did understand why his parents had kept the reason for staying with the Longbottoms a secret. Of course they wouldn’t want him to worry that mad Regulus Black was going to come after them. And surely, even though they were bait to catch him, they’d agreed to it. They knew the plan. They just hadn’t told him. And Harry understood why, but he was still upset about it, and he was absolutely going to tell them how upset he was.

There were four sharp cracks outside the pub, and then the door burst open. Lily, James, Sirius, and Remus all rushed in and immediately over to him.

Lily threw her arms around him and then started to check him for injuries. “Harry, are you alright? Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine,” and Harry didn’t sound as angry as he’d meant to. “Are… you okay?”

She laughed and his father hugged him and said, “We’re fine. When are you going to stop scaring us, huh?”

Harry laughed a little and hugged both his parents at once. “I didn’t mean to scare you.” Well, maybe a little.

Fudge came out of the room and looked startled to see the pub so crowded all of a sudden, but he quickly regained his composure. “Mr. and Mrs. Potter.” He smiled widely at them, and Harry noticed the way he completely failed to acknowledge Sirius and Remus. “You arrived so quickly. As you can see, everything is perfectly fine, and I’d be happy to escort you back to the Longbottoms--”

“We’ll be going home,” Lily said without letting Harry go.

Fudge looked startled by this, then looked to James for some sort of explanation.

James only laughed. “What, am I supposed to say something different?”

Fudge spluttered for a moment. “But--the plan. How are we supposed to catch Black if--”

“The plan isn’t working,” Lily said sternly. “It’s been a week, and we’re no closer to catching Black. We are going home to spend time with our son before he goes to school.”

“Let me arrange to have some Azkaban guards stationed at your home.”

“Absolutely not,” James said.

Fudge looked like he wanted to argue, but wasn’t sure how. Harry didn’t blame him. His parents were difficult people to argue with. Especially when they agreed with each other.

“Perhaps a team of Aurors?” Fudge suggested weakly.

Lily said, “We’ll talk to Alastor about that personally, and I would prefer if the Ministry stayed out of it.”

Fudge took a handkerchief from his pocket and dabbed at his forehead. “Of course. And, you should be happy to hear, Neville is fine after all. It seems there was a bit of panic when we thought he was on the Knight Bus, but he’d merely gotten lost in his grandmother’s garden.”

“I’m glad he’s safe,” James said. “Now, if you’ll excuse us, we’ll be taking Harry home.”

Harry was not very excited to leave. He had a feeling he was in for the biggest scolding of his life when they got home. He had never run away before, and he was pretty sure it was the worst thing he’d ever done. Even worse than sneaking off to the Forbidden Forest and nearly getting eaten by giant spiders.

But there was no scolding as his father took his trunk, his mother took his hand, and they all Apparated home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, comments and headcanons are much appreciated.


	4. The Leaky Cauldron

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tonks drops by for an impromptu, poorly-timed visit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, special thanks to ageofzero for helping me work through this chapter.

No one yelled at Harry when he got home. His mother asked if he wanted hot cocoa and he said no thank you. His father tucked him into bed and he slept peacefully, happy to be home.

He woke up late, and Remus and Sirius were still there. Sirius was asleep on the couch and Remus was in the kitchen having tea with his mother.

“Good morning,” she said with a smile, and put some breakfast on a plate. She renewed the Warming Charm on it before she handed it to him.

“Morning. Where’s Dad?”

“Still sleeping. He and Sirius were up very late putting wards on the house. I told him to do it before we left, but....” Lily trailed off and sipped at her tea. Harry could tell she had important things to say to him but she didn’t know how to say them. She opened her mouth once, then closed it again. Finally she said, “We understand why you’re upset with us,” Lily said. “We broke our promise. But I need you to understand that what you did last night was completely unacceptable. Even if there wasn’t an escaped prisoner running around, we didn’t know where you were, we didn’t know if you were hurt or in trouble--Promise me, Harry,” she said slowly, “promise me you will never ever do something like that again.”

Harry nodded slowly. “Okay.” But he wondered if he was really beholden to his promises to his parents if they kept breaking theirs to him.

Lily let out a heavy sigh of relief. “That said, we are sorry. We just didn’t want you to worry, and there wasn’t anything you could do to help.”

“That’s what you said about the Chamber of Secrets, and I think I helped a lot.”

Lily frowned. “This was a little different--”

“I had an entire book of letters written by Regulus Black. Maybe we could have learned something if you had just told me.”

Lily looked startled. “You had what?”

And Harry told her about the present Sirius had given him and then taken away. She sat in stunned silence for a moment, and it was far more satisfactory than any apology she’d given Harry.

“I think we can all agree Sirius overreacted,” Remus said. “And really, we shouldn’t be surprised. But you do need to be more careful, Harry. I’m not saying I expect you to be more level headed than Sirius--he is the adult--but you need to be a little more responsible. Running away isn’t an answer. Ever.”

“I understand,” Harry said, because he knew it was what they wanted to hear. And he did understand, but that didn’t mean he agreed. Running away had proven rather effective. Everyone agreed Sirius was in the wrong, and his mother had apologized.

He also knew, however, any chance he had at getting a new broom was gone. “Will I still be able to go to Diagon Alley with my friends?” he asked.

“Of course,” Lily said. “But I am afraid….” She took a sip of her tea and looked out the door of the kitchen, towards the bedroom. “I imagine your father would like to avoid this conversation, and I hate to indulge him, but,” she sighed again. “Harry, please understand it’s not about being upset with you. Please don’t think of this as a punishment but we can’t sign your permission slip to Hogsmeade this year. I know you must be excited but it’s dangerous with Black on the loose, and we can’t risk you getting hurt.”

Any smug satisfaction Harry felt about her apology deflated inside him. Her words made sense, but they hurt. All he could manage was, “Oh.”

“The moment Black is caught, we will gladly give you permission to go,” Lily said. “Which is why your father and I will continue to assist the Ministry, but we aren’t going away. We’re just going to be coming and going quite a bit. Uncle Remus will be staying here to help out.”

Harry wasn’t quite sure how he felt about that part. He wasn’t upset or hurt, but he wasn’t necessarily excited. Maybe he was just already too hurt by not being able to go to Hogsmeade with his friends. “Will you promise to tell me things?” Harry asked. “Promise you’ll tell me when things happen? I want to know. I want to help.”

“Yes,” Lily said with a faint smile. “I think we can manage that.”

\--- --- ---

For as much as his parents were gone during August, Harry had never seen the house so full of people.

People that Harry only saw at birthdays or the occasional Halloween came in and out of the house constantly. Nymphadora Tonks stopped in for tea at last twice a week. Alastor Moody came in at least twice, which was more than Harry had seen him in five years. Fabian and Gideon Prewett came by for a few dinners, and even Dumbledore and McGonagall had breakfast with Harry, his parents, and Uncle Remus one morning.

Sirius didn’t come by at all.

Sirius had not apologized to Harry for burning the book. Harry had no intention of forgiving Sirius until he apologized. For the time being, they were not speaking to each other.

On the last Sunday of August, Harry was getting in some last minute practice on his broom in the backyard. Uncle Remus was still asleep. He’d started to look rundown this week, and the last few nights Lily had made sure to be home to help with his potion. Harry knew he shouldn’t be flying without supervision--a million accidents could happen on a broom--but he made sure to stay low and not go too fast. Maybe he didn’t always make the best decisions, but he wasn’t an idiot.

Harry was chasing a blue butterfly towards the tree line--it wasn’t nearly as fast as a snitch, but he was more concerned with staying in its path than catching up to it--when he saw something out of the corner of his eye. He tucked and rolled and it sailed passed him. An apple landed at the base of the trees a few yards off. Harry turned around to see Nymphadora Tonks leaning against the door on the back porch.

“Nice flying,” she grinned. “Y’know I played Beater my third and fourth year?”

Harry landed and walked over to her. “For Hufflepuff, right?”

Nymphadora laughed. “Yep. Had to give Charlie a run for his money,” she winked at Harry like it was some sort of inside joke, but Harry had only met Charlie Weasley about seven times before. There were a lot of Weasleys, and Harry had only truly been friends with Ron these last two years.

“Is uh, Mr. Lupin around?” Tonks asked.

“Sleeping, I think.” Harry led Tonks inside. Harry poured some fresh squeezed lemonade into a glass and handed it to Tonks then poured one for himself.

“Have you heard anything about Regulus Black yet?” Harry asked.

She shrugged. “I keep pestering Mad-Eye about it, but he says I’m on a strictly ‘Need-to-Know’ basis.” She groaned loudly. “Training sucks. I’ve only got one year left. I could be useful.” She sipped at her lemonade and frowned, but Harry didn’t think the lemonade was very sour.

“Mad-Eye?”

“Er, Mr. Moody. We all call him Mad-Eye down at the Auror office,” she laughed. “And, well, he still calls my Nymphadora,” she made that sour face again, “so I guess it’s even.”

Harry was still working on calling her Tonks. All the adults called her Nymphadora, so it was hard to adjust, but he was working on it.

“What did you want to see Uncle Remus for?”

Tonks’ cheeks turned a little pink and her nose seemed to squish in on itself. “Just--stuff. Um, Uncle Sirius is being weird, as usual. Thought he might know what to do about it.”

“You call him ‘Uncle Sirius’?”

“He is my uncle Sort of.”

“Yeah, but it sounds weird.”

“You call Remus ‘Uncle Remus.’”

“So?”

“He’s not even related to you.”

“You called him Mr. Lupin before.”

“So?” Tonks shot back. “I can call him Remus. We’re both adults.”

“You’re not an adult,” Harry laughed.

Tonks’s hair turned a pale shade of orange. “I am too.”

“Are not.”

“Are too!”

“Are not!”

“Are too!”

Harry was about to shout back, “Are not,” when a very groggy Uncle Remus appeared in the doorway to the kitchen.

“It’s a bit early to be this loud, isn’t it?” Remus asked and rubbed his hand over his face. He was still in his pajamas, but he’d tied a bathrobe over them.

Tonks’ hair turned its usual vibrant pink and her cheeks puffed out to their usual roundness, but her nose remained squished up tight. “Er--it’s just after noon.”

Remus stared at her, like he hadn’t been sure she was there until she’d spoken. “Is it really?”

“D’you want some tea?” Harry asked.

Remus adjusted his bathrobe. “Yes, that sounds lovely. I’ll just--get dressed.”

Harry filled the kettle and put it on the gas stove. “Do you want some too, Tonks?”

“Er--no, it’s a bit hot for tea, isn’t it? Is he feeling alright?”

Harry’s mind raced with at least fifteen different answers he’d heard his parents give to other family friends over the years about Remus’s condition. “Summer cold,” Harry finally said.

“Oh. Shame he has to stay here and watch you while he’s sick.”

“I’m not any trouble,” Harry protested.

“Someone ought to stay to take care of him and take care of you.”

Harry stared at her for a moment, not quite sure what she meant by that. “I’m going to put my broom away,” he said finally, and went upstairs to his room.

He had just gotten his broom in its proper place and checked it for loose twigs when he heard the front door open and close.

Harry ran down the stairs and straight into his dad’s arms.

“Hey, Snitch,” James grinned. “You all packed and ready to go?”

“Almost!” Actually, Harry hadn’t packed at all.

School was still a few days away, but it was not a good week for Remus. He was going to stay with Sirius until school started, and Harry’s parents were taking him to the Leaky Cauldron for a few days. Harry wasn’t entirely sure why, but it had something to do with making the Ministry happy, at least until the term started at Hogwarts.

The kettle started whistling and Harry went to pour Remus’s tea. James was startled to find Nymphadora Tonks in his kitchen.

“Oh. Good afternoon. Were you looking for Lily?” he asked.

“Er--yes,” Tonks said, watching Harry carefully as he poured the tea. “Will she be back soon?”

Harry did not know why Tonks was lying, but he was not one to tattle. Tonks had covered for him enough times as a boy. He owed her one or two white lies.

“I’m afraid she won’t be back until the end of the week. I can take her a letter, or a message, if it’s urgent. Or you can owl us at the Leaky Cauldron.”

“I think I’ll do that,” she said and cleared her throat. “Well, bye Harry. Uh--tell Remus--er, Mr. Lupin--I said goodbye.”

Harry tried very hard not to laugh at her. “Of course.”

Tonks tripped over a chair on her way out. He thought her face had to be as pink as her hair by the time she reached the door.

Remus came into the kitchen, now properly dressed. “Oh. Did Nymphadora leave?”

Harry handed him a cup of tea. “Yeah.”

“Are you nearly ready to leave?” James asked Remus.

“Nearly,” Remus answered and sipped carefully at his cup of tea. “I believe Harry has a handful of things left to pack, though.” He cleared his throat meaningfully.

“It’ll take me two minutes,” Harry said, and scampered up the stairs.

\--- --- ---

On Monday, James and Lily took Harry to get his school things. They started with new robes because Harry was getting so tall. Then Harry got new books for his elective courses.

“Oh--I’ve already got the _Monster Book of Monsters_ ,” Harry said, and the shopkeeper looked very relieved. “I just need _Unfogging the Future_ , by Cassandra Vablatsky.”

“What about your Muggle Studies book?” James asked.

“I’m not going to take it,” Harry said. “It’d be too much with Quidditch practice.”

Lily tried to flatten his hair, but it popped right back up. “That might be a wise decision,” she said, “but don’t make it just because you’re annoyed with Sirius.”

“If anything, drop Divination,” James said.

But Harry thought Divination sounded a lot more interesting than Muggle Studies, and it probably had everything to do with the fact that Remus had been taking care of him all month and Sirius still hadn’t apologized.

After books, they got his Potions supplies. This meant passing by the broom shop, where the Firebolt was proudly displayed in the window.

Harry knew he couldn’t have one. It was unspeakably expensive, for one thing, and for another he was still on a tight leash with his parents. He was going to have to have an absolutely perfect school year if he wanted to upgrade his broom. Not that it needed upgrading. It really was fine as it was.

But that Firebolt….

On Tuesday, Harry ran into Ron and Hermione, who were buying their school things. Ron showed off his new wand (since last year’s had broken in an unfortunate mishap with some pixies and an unskilled Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher), and Hermione said she wanted to get an owl, or some sort of animal companion to have at school with her.

Harry made sure to get permission from his parents first.

Lily did not look pleased by the request. “I’m not sure. I’d be more comfortable if Ron’s parents or Percy went with you.”

James laughed. “They’re thirteen. They’ll be fine. Go on.”

Harry grinned and ran off with Ron and Hermione before his mum could protest.

They started at the Owl Emporium, but Hermione didn’t see any she liked.

“You could try a weasel, like Scabbers,” Harry suggested.

“I wouldn’t get a weasel,” Ron said, and slipped a cracker into the robe pocket that Scabbers traveled in. “He’s a cranky thing. He bites, too. Maybe a toad like Neville’s got?”

“Is Neville at the Leaky Cauldron, too?” Hermione asked as they ducked into the magical creature shop next to the Owl Emporium.

“Yeah, but I haven’t seen much of him,” Harry said. “How’d you know he was there?”

“Dad said so,” answered Ron. “This Regulus Black stuff is serious, you know? The whole Ministry’s on it. Even Dad, who just does Muggle stuff, is helping the Aurors look for him. Harry, did you show your parents that book--Hermione, what is that?”

Hermione had picked up a very large orange cat--or was it a small tiger? Its face was squished and its fur looked mangy.

“This is the one,” she announced proudly.

“Hermione,” Harry started in a cautionary tone, “are you sure?” Its face was so grumpy-looking.

“Of course I’m sure! He’s gorgeous.”

Harry looked at Ron to make sure he wasn’t missing anything, but Ron looked as bewildered as he did. The cat was large and hideous and why Hermione wanted it made no sense to either of them. But she’d made her choice and they let her buy the cat.

They went back to the Leaky Cauldron, where Harry announced to his parents, who were sitting in the pub with Frank and Alice Longbottom, that he’d returned safe and sound, completely free of harm and getting lost.

“And no side turns on Knockturn Alley?” James asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Not a one,” Harry said.

Lily, at least, looked put at ease by his safe return.

Mrs. Weasley arrived shortly after, with Fred, George, Ginny, and Percy all trailing behind her. Lily gave Ginny a wide smile and Ginny shyly waved at her, then turned very red when she saw Harry. She squeaked, “Hello,” to the both of them, then quickly went upstairs.

Percy held out a hand to Harry. “Hello. Wonderful to see you again. You’re well, I trust?”

Harry laughed as he shook Percy’s hand. “Sure.”

Fred and George interrupted Percy’s pompous greeting by shoving him aside and copying him dramatically.

“Hello, old boy, marvelous to see you,” Fred said, shaking Harry’s hand vigorously.

“Absolutely spiffing,” George said, and shoved Fred out of the way.

Percy scowled and Mrs. Weasley grabbed an ear of each of her twins. “That’s enough out of you two!” she said sternly.

“It’s absolutely corking to see you too, Mum,” Fred said with a laugh, but he winced as she pinched his ear.

“Get these bags upstairs, go on.”

Fred and George did as they were told.

Dinner hadn’t been nearly so lively when it was just Harry, his parents, and the Longbottoms. The Weasleys made everything loud and chaotic and Harry hadn’t been happier all summer.

It was very late when everyone said goodnight. Harry went first to Ron and Percy’s room to make sure Ron got all his school supplies packed. And because he was not quite ready to go to bed yet.

“It was right here!” Percy shouted at Ron.

Ron took his Divination book from Harry. “What was?”

“My Head Boy pin!”

Ron shrugged his shoulders. “Maybe Scabbers ate it.”

“What did you do to it?”

Harry had to stifle a laugh at how worked up Percy was. He gingerly handed Ron the Monster Book of Monsters and said, “I’ll check downstairs for it, Percy.”

“I left it on the nightstand!” Percy shouted, but Harry thought it was worth a look anyway.

As Harry reached the bottom of the stairs, he heard adult voices drifting from the dining area.

Mrs. Weasley said, “--can’t believe you told him everything.”

“He’s thirteen,” James said. “We told him what we know. That Black escaped and is likely hunting for us or for Frank and Alice.”

One of the women sniffed loudly in disdain, and Harry didn’t think it was Molly. Then Alice Longbottom said, “Yes, that’s likely, but that’s not what we know.”

Someone sighed heavily, and Harry thought he recognized the sigh as his mother’s. Then Lily said, “Honestly, the Azkaban guards aren’t the most reliable. There’s no way to know for sure that Black is going to be at Hogwarts.”

“I’m appalled Dumbledore’s allowing them to guard the school,” Frank Longbottom said.

“It was quite the fight,” James said. “I think he only agreed because he was hoping Black would be caught before term started. The important thing is that our kids will be safe at Hogwarts. There’s no way for Black to get in.”

“That’s what we said about Azkaban,” Mr. Weasley said. “And Black got out of there somehow.”

“It does bother me we don’t know how.” Alice’s voice was muffled, like something was in front of her face. “I don’t like the idea of Neville being in trouble.”

“You never really get used to it,” Lily sighed again.

“Oh, dears, there’s no need to look so down,” Mrs. Weasley said. “Come, I know your only sons are precious to you, but they’ll be safe. Dumbledore’s at Hogwarts and there’s nothing that will hurt your boys while he’s around. Let’s get to bed before it gets much later.”

Harry quickly turned back upstairs and bumped into Fred and George on the landing.

“We’ve got it,” Fred said with a whispered laugh. “We’ve been improving it.”

George showed him Percy’s prefect badge. It no longer said Head Boy. Instead, it read BigHead Boy. Harry laughed, then quickly ducked into his parents room before they could find him in the stairwell.

He pretended to be reading when they came into the room. Lily smiled a sad smile at him, and James simply looked tired. Harry felt strange to know how much they worried about him. Sure, they told him they worried about him, but it was different when they were telling him because they wanted him to not do something. This time, he’d only overheard it said to someone else, and it somehow felt more true.

“Ready for tomorrow?” James asked and pulled his pajamas out of his trunk.

“Yes,” Harry said, and closed the book he hadn’t been reading.

Lily kissed his forehead. “Good night, sleep tight. Don’t let the Hinky-pinks bite.”

“It’s Hinkypunks, Mum, and they don’t bite.”

Lily raised her eyebrows. “I think I know what I’m talking about. Maybe if someone took Muggle Studies--”

“I want to focus on Quidditch.”

Lily sighed. “Alright, fine. Just thought I’d try one last time. Good night, dear.”

“I’m your dear,” James protested.

Lily rolled her eyes and kissed James’s forehead. “Goodnight both my dears.” And she turned out the lights.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, comments and headcanons much appreciated!


	5. The Dementor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry's trip to Hogwarts is surprisingly eventful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm always overwhelmed by the comments you guys leave me. They are the wonderful bright spots on my very bleak work schedule. Honestly, this is still going because of you, so I'm so glad you're enjoying it, and I really hope I don't disappoint.
> 
> Also this chapter is really long... not sure if that's good or bad? Either way, I hope you enjoy it!

Getting to King’s Cross Station was a bigger hassle than Harry could have dreamed. Sure, he and his parents could often be found rushing around the morning before school started (he was nearly late his first year), but they’d never cut it this close before.

Harry should have realized that if he alone managed to give four reasonably organized adults a headache, five Weasley children packing for Hogwarts under the supervision of two adults would be a nightmare.

The only people who had no trouble being downstairs by nine-thirty am were Hermione Granger and the Longbottoms. Harry got his trunk downstairs by nine-forty-five.

“Where’s Ron?” he asked Hermione.

She sighed heavily, but her explanation was cut off--

“Ron, you dripped tea on Penelope!” Percy’s voice echoed through the pub.

“I did not!”

There were several dull thuds as Ron’s trunk banged on each step down into the lobby. He grabbed a biscuit off the table and took a bite. He broke off a smaller piece and put it in his pocket for Scabbers. Ron looked grumpy and quite ready to be away from Percy.

Percy was not far behind Ron, still complaining about Penelope Clearwater’s damaged photograph, but no one was listening. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were next with Ginny right on their heels.

“Fred! George!” Mrs. Weasley shouted up the stairs. “We’ll be late!”

“Coming, Mother!” one of them shouted back. Then there was a rather large bang. Fred and George came down not far behind it--one of Fred’s eyebrows was smoking.

Molly Weasley scolded them loudly all the way to the cars.

“Why is the Ministry providing cars?” Ron asked Hermione.

But Hermione, unusually, did not have an answer.

Harry suspected it had to do with him and Neville, or at least their parents, but he said nothing. He wanted to wait until they were safe on the train to explain it all to Hermione and Ron, away from his parents.

Harry wondered what the Muggles at King’s Cross Station were thinking as eight children wheeled trolleys through the platforms with trunks and owls and and broomsticks, but no one seemed to pay them any attention. Harry thought about the Knight Bus and how it sped its way across the country, with things hopping out of its way and hopping back into place. Harry started to wonder if Muggles paid much attention to anything.

Once through the barrier between platforms nine and ten, Percy caught sight of Penelope. He smoothed back his hair and puffed up his chest, shiny Bighead Boy badge proudly on display. Apparently he hadn’t noticed the twins’ adjustment before he had pinned it onto his robes.

Ginny caught Harry’s eye and the two of them tried very hard to hide their laughter.

While Mrs. Weasley handed sandwiches out to her children, and Mr. Longbottom fussed over Neville’s robes, James and Lily pulled Harry aside.

“Promise me one more time you’ll be careful,” James said.

“I promise,” Harry said with a small smile. He’d promised several times now, but he could humor them one more time. “It’s Hogwarts. Dumbledore will be there. And Uncle Remus.”

Lily hugged him tightly. “You’ll make sure to take care of Remus for us, won’t you?”

“Of course,” Harry nodded. He remembered a handful of stories of his parents’ time at Hogwarts, and the way his father, Sirius, and their friend Peter had looked out for Remus. He didn’t have any intention of transforming into an animal and bounding off into the Forbidden Forest, but he thought there were things even he could do to make sure Remus was okay.

The train whistle blew insistently.

“One last thing,” James said. “Don’t be too upset with Sirius. He’s very good at sulking, especially when no one agrees with him. Maybe Remus was able to talk him around this week. But still, don’t take it personally. It’s not you that Sirius is mad at.”

Harry tried to make sense of that, but it didn’t quite process. If Sirius wasn’t mad at him, then who was Sirius mad at? But there was no time for questions. The train whistle blew one last time, and Ron waited at the door of the moving train to help Harry up.

“Be safe,” his mother pleaded one last time. Harry wondered if she was thinking about Regulus Black, the basilisk they’d fought together, Voldemort, or something worse.

Harry, Ron, Ginny, and Neville all leaned out to wave goodbye to their respective parents. Hermione waved with them. Then the train turned out of sight of the platform, and they were essentially without parental supervision. As long as they avoided Percy, anyway.

They walked towards the back of the train, since the compartments all seemed full. When they reached the last one, they found only one occupant--Remus Lupin, fast asleep by the window, cloak drawn up over him as best as he could.

“Let’s sit somewhere else,” Harry whispered quietly.

“He’s teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts, isn’t he?” Hermione asked. “Teachers don’t normally take the train to Hogwarts. Shouldn’t they arrive early to prepare classes, anyway?”

Harry thought Hermione’s suggestions were reasonable, but he also knew that Remus would have preferred to transform at home, with friends. And it wasn’t as if Remus could Apparate to Hogwarts, or even to Hogsmeade so shortly after a transformation.

“Maybe he was… busy with the Regulus Black stuff,” Harry suggested and closed the door to the compartment.

“You mean you don’t know? Isn’t he your uncle?”

“He’s a family friend.”

Harry opened the door one compartment over. There was only one girl in Ravenclaw robes, all by herself, with her nose in a book. Harry recognized her only by her platinum blonde hair and turnip earrings. He knew she was in her second year, but he didn’t know her name.

“Hi, Luna,” Ginny said.

She looked up at them, her face a mixture of surprise and a daydream. Actually, Harry was pretty sure she’d had that look on her face every time he’d passed her in the hallways.

“Hello, Ginny,” she said sweetly and smiled.

“We can sit here,” Ginny suggested, but Harry did not want to talk about Regulus Black and his fight with Sirius in front of a girl he didn’t know. He also really didn’t want to share it with Ginny and Neville.

“Why don’t we find Dean and Seamus?” he suggested to Ron and Hermione, with a look they hopefully understood.

“I can come too,” Neville said.

Harry was about to tell Neville to stay, but he thought about how his parents had kept secrets from him. He wondered if Neville’s parents kept the same secrets. Or maybe Neville knew things Harry didn’t.

“Sure, Neville,” Harry said, and they quickly left the compartment.

“Where to?” Ron asked, casting a suspicious look at Neville. “Everywhere is full.”

“We can talk quietly in Uncle Remus’s compartment,” Harry said. And, he thought it would be better if he was in there with Ron, Neville, and Hermione, rather than any other students who might decide it was a quiet place to sit.

“Are you sure he’s alright?” Ron whispered as they walked in. “He doesn’t look very good.”

“I’m sure he’s fine,” Harry said quickly, and sat down beside Remus. He didn’t want anyone else accidentally bumping into him. And, he wanted to talk about anything except Remus being ill. “Do you guys know the actual story about Regulus Black? It wasn’t in the papers--I learned it from an attendant on the Knight Bus.”

“I only know his name was mentioned in _Witches and Wizards of the 20th Century,_ as a supporter of You-Know-Who,” Hermione said. “But it didn’t say anything else.”

“I know the story,” Neville said quietly, and looked at Harry. “But I only know pieces of it. Gran told me some, but Mum and Dad don’t like to talk about it.”

“Did he really… torture your parents?” Harry asked.

Neville nodded. “That’s what Gran says. I was only a year old, so I don’t remember. Gran said it was a lot of Death Eaters, and that Mum and Dad were lucky to survive. They might’ve been killed if the Prewett brothers hadn’t shown up.”

“That doesn’t sound anything like the Regulus Black we read about,” Hermione said. “The Regulus Black in your book, Harry, I thought that he died before the war ended.”

This was the part Harry didn’t understand. This was the part he was hoping Hermione would have answers for. “Sirius told me he didn’t die. That he just disappeared for two years and came back after Voldemort attacked my parents. And Stan Shunpike said the same thing--that Regulus Black was missing for two years, then turned up suddenly at the end of the war.”

Neville shuddered. “Gran said he was awful. Said he did dark things no one could talk about, and that’s why it was so secret. Even the other Death Eaters didn’t know what he was up to. He was supposed to be You-Know-Who’s right hand man.”

Ron’s brow furrowed. “But in the letter you had, Harry, didn’t Regulus write a letter to some lady, telling her to leave the Death Eaters? That whatever he was about to do against them was going to kill him? Why would he come back, two years later, on You-Know-Who’s side? It doesn’t make sense.”

“That’s what I told Sirius--”

“Do you still have the letter?” Hermione asked.

Harry sighed heavily. “I showed Sirius the letter and he said he didn’t believe it. I tried to tell him he was wrong about Regulus, and he burned the entire book.”

Hermione looked appalled.

“I think that’s a good thing,” Neville said suddenly. “Regulus Black is awful. I don’t think you guys should be talking about him like this. He tried to kill our parents, Harry. That’s why they had to go away this summer.”

“Actually,” Harry said slowly, knowing this wasn’t going to help his case, but he had to tell them, “I think Regulus Black might be trying to kill us instead.”

“Why would he want to do that?” asked Ron.

Harry told them what he’d overheard Nymphadora Tonks say to Sirius, and then again what he’d heard the adults say downstairs at the Leaky Cauldron, about being concerned for their children, and about the guards at Hogwarts. Neville went very pale.

“That explains why everyone panicked when I went for a walk in Gran’s garden,” he said in a shaky voice.

“Harry,” Hermione started slowly, “maybe everyone’s right. Maybe those letters are false. And--even if they aren’t, Regulus Black has been in Azkaban for a very long time. He might blame you or Neville for being there, or blame your families. Don’t go looking for trouble.”

“I don’t go looking for trouble,” Harry said. Though he had considered trying to find Regulus Black. He thought if he could talk to him, then maybe he could understand what happened.

“How thick would Harry have to be, to go looking for a nutter who wants to kill him?” Ron said.

“We don’t know he wants to kill me,” Harry said quickly.

“No one’s ever escaped from Azkaban before,” whispered Neville. “He’s really dangerous. Probably used dark magic no one’s heard of before. And--and well, he is a Black.”

“Sirius is a Black,” Harry snapped.

“Sirius is different,” Ron said. “The Black family’s always been known for the Dark Arts and being pureblooded. They’re a lot like the Malfoys. Or they were. Mum said Sirius is the only one left. And I guess Regulus.”

Harry remembered the letters about Andromeda. They hadn’t been kind. Now that he knew “Drommie” was Tonks’ mother, he guessed the anger was about Tonks’s Muggleborn father. Still, Harry didn’t know if he agreed with everything they were saying about Regulus. That last letter stuck in his mind. It had been so earnest.

And he remembered what his mother had said last year about blood, and how blood didn’t matter. Maybe he was a descendant of Salazar Slytherin, but it didn’t make him evil. Hermione was Muggleborn but she was no less a witch than any of them. He was about to give Neville and Ron the same talk about blood, but a high-pitched whistling started to go off in Harry’s trunk.

Ron pulled the Pocket Sneakoscope out of Harry’s trunk, surprised to see it spinning and glowing. The whistling was increasing in pitch and Harry grabbed it from Ron and shoved it back in his trunk. He didn’t want it to wake Remus.

“Was that a Sneakoscope?” asked Hermione.

“A cheap one,” Ron grumbled. “I don’t think it works right. We can get it checked in Hogsmeade, though.”

Hermione began to babble excitedly about Hogsmeade’s history. Harry grew more and more glum as Ron started to talk about the shops he wanted to visit. He noticed Neville looked equally downcast.

“Aren’t you excited, Harry?” Hermione finally asked. “I thought you’d want to see the Shrieking Shack.”

Harry did want to see the Shrieking Shack-- and not just because it was the most haunted building in Britain--but he said glumly, “Mum and Dad won’t sign my form until Regulus Black is caught.”

“Mine neither,” Neville said with a heavy sigh. “I guess we can stay at the castle together, Harry.”

This did not sound like Harry’s idea of a pleasant Saturday. Ron looked like he was about to say something, but then looked at Neville and quickly closed his mouth. Harry got the impression that Ron didn’t want to let Neville in on a bright idea. Harry just hoped it was actually a good one.

Hermione opened the straps on Crookshanks’s basket and let her cat curl up in her lap. Harry and Ron stared at it and Hermione, still confused about what she saw in it. Ron mouthed a word to Harry that looked a lot like, “Mangy,” and Harry had to stifle a laugh.

The witch who managed the candy trolley came by and asked if they wanted anything.

“Should we wake him up and ask?” Ron asked awkwardly, nodding toward Lupin.

“He’s fine. I know what he likes,” Harry said quickly. Harry bought a stack of Cauldron Cakes for him and his friends and a handful of Chocolate Frogs for Remus.

“He is alright, isn’t he?” Hermione asked, and took the Cauldron Cake as Harry passed it to her.

Harry handed one to Ron. “Yeah. Maybe he just had a long night.”

Ron took Scabbers out of his pocket to feed him a bit of Cauldron Cake. The weasel chattered angrily at Crookshanks, and Crookshanks growled back. Hermione winced as he dug his claws into her lap.

“Crookshanks, no,” she whispered.

Then Scabbers jumped at Crookshanks and while Ron and Hermione tried to save them both, Harry tried desperately not to let it disturb Remus.

When Ron and Hermione had finally gotten their pets separated and calmed, Neville said, “I don’t think weasels and cats get along very well.”

Harry couldn’t help himself--he laughed. Ron and Hermione laughed too. Thankfully, none of the commotion or the laughter woke Uncle Remus.

As the train chugged along through the afternoon, it began to rain, and with the bad weather came worse company. Draco Malfoy showed up, with Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle on either side of him. Harry really wasn’t in the mood to deal with them.

“Well, look who it is,” Malfoy said as he pulled open the compartment door. “Potty and the Weasel.”

“Clever, Malfoy,” Harry said coolly, and got to his feet. “Did you come up with it all on your own or did you pay someone to do it for you?” It wasn’t that Harry wanted to fight Malfoy, but he would if Malfoy did anything to bother Remus.

“At least I could afford to pay someone. I hear your father finally got his hands on some gold this summer, Weasley,” said Malfoy. “Did your mother die of shock?”

Ron also stood, and knocked Crookshanks’s basket to the floor in the process. Lupin gave a snort, and Harry prepared to physically throw Malfoy out of the compartment, but Malfoy took a step back.

“Who’s that?”

“New teacher,” Harry said. He guessed Malfoy didn’t recognize Lupin under all the blankets, or maybe the full moon had been so bad, Lupin was sick beyond recognition. “So what was it you were going to say, Malfoy?”

Malfoy took another look at the new professor, then up at the suitcase with R. J. Lupin stamped into it. Malfoy grunted something that Harry thought might have been an apology, and Malfoy wandered off with his cronies.

Ron flexed his fingers and tightened them into a fist again. “I’m not putting up with Malfoy this year, I swear--”

Hermione shushed him quickly and nodded meaningfully at the sleeping Lupin.

Harry relaxed into his seat, glad that Remus had slept through the chaos. It wouldn’t be long before they arrived at Hogwarts, and Remus could get a hot meal and a good cup of tea. He’d watched his parents take care of Remus for thirteen years, and he felt confident he could do what they did. Everything except the Wolfsbane Potion and Transfiguration, anyway.

The rain grew heavier the closer they got to Hogwarts. It had been plenty dry in London, but it was pouring this far north. Harry thought it a little early for rain storms, but the rain clearly disagreed.

The train slowed down and Ron stood up and stretched. “I’m so hungry--”

“We shouldn’t be stopping yet,” Hermione frowned and checked her watch. “It’s too early.”

Then suddenly, engines stopped completely. Luggage fell to the ground. Harry barely missed Hedwig’s cage. He leaned down to set her up right. Frost started to creep on the windows and Harry had just enough time to think, “It’s definitely too early for frost,” when all the lights went out.

Shouts echoed throughout the train. 

“What’s going on?” Ron asked.

“Ow, Ron, that was my foot!” said Hermione.

“Maybe we’ve broken down?” Harry suggested.

He could barely make out the shape of Ron, peering out the window. “I think someone’s coming aboard.”

“It’s Regulus Black,” Neville whimpered.

Harry snorted. But before he could voice his disbelief, the door slid open. 

“Who’s there?” Ron asked.

“Harry, Ron, are you alright?” Ginny’s voice came out of the darkness. “What’s going on--”

“Ow!” Ginny tumbled right into Harry.

Hermione helped them up off the floor. “Sit down. I’m going to ask the driver what’s going on.” There was another bump and crash and someone let out a yelp.

“Who’s that?” Hermione asked.

“It’s just me,” answered a distant, day-dreamy voice.

“Luna? We shouldn’t be moving around in the dark.”

“You were moving around in the dark.”

“Come in and sit down--No, Neville’s there--Harry, move Crookshanks.”

“Not on me!” Ron snapped.

“Quiet!” a hoarse voice said suddenly.

Harry felt Remus moving beside him. He waited for him to say “Lumos,” but instead there was a crackling noise and a gentle light filled the cabin. Tiny flames flickered in Remus’s palm. Harry couldn’t help but think how pale Remus’s face looked in the dim light.

“Uncle Remus, you shouldn’t--”

“Stay where you are,” he said quietly and stood up. He made for the door, but it slid open before he reached it.

Illuminated by the small fire was a tall, cloaked figure, in all black with a hood drawn over its face. It loomed over them, taller than Hagrid, Harry thought. Then it raised a hand at them--a horrible gray hand, bony and peeling, like someone had taken an ill Remus and left him to rot in a pond. Harry thought he might be sick just from looking at it.

Then the hand disappeared into the cloak and the figure took in a heavy breath, slow and steady. Harry felt like all the heat was being drawn from the room. Ice clamped over heart. He couldn’t breathe. It was like being dragged into a frozen pond.

And then Harry heard a scream--a scream he’d only heard in his nightmares.

“Harry! Harry, are you alright?”

Someone was slapping his face.

Slowly he opened his eyes. The lights were back on and the train was moving, but somehow he’d ended up on the floor. Ron, and Hermione were next to him. Neville and Ginny were sitting in their seats, watching. They were both unusually pale, and Ginny was still trembling.

Harry tried to sit up, but he felt like he might be sick. Ron and Hermione helped him to his feet.

“Where’s Uncle Remus?” Then he saw him, helping Luna into her seat and pushing something into her hand.

“Are you okay?” Ron asked him.

“Yeah--what was it?” Whatever it was was gone. Harry couldn’t imagine anything as awful as that thing had been.

“A dementor of Azkaban,” Uncle Remus said and pressed a piece of chocolate into Harry’s hand. “Here, this will help.”

Harry looked at the chocolate stupidly, like he didn’t know what to do with it.

“Eat,” Remus said, and broke off the last pieces of chocolate for Ron and Hermione. “It’ll help. I’m going to speak with the driver. Excuse me….”

And like that, he was gone.

Harry stared at the door to their carriage like he was still in his trance. There were too many thoughts in his head and he couldn’t seem to focus on any of them.

“Are you sure you’re okay, Harry?” Hermione asked anxiously.

Harry wasn’t sure, actually. “What… happened?”

“The--the dementor. It came in and--” Hermione didn’t seem to know how to finish, which Harry found unsettling. She always had the answers for things.

“I thought you were having a fit or something,” said Ron in a shaky voice. “You went sort of rigid and fell out of your seat and started twitching.”

“And Professor Lupin stepped over you,” Hermione continued, “and walked toward the dementor, and pulled out his wand, and he said, ‘None of us is hiding Regulus Black under our cloaks. Go.’ But the dementor didn’t move, so Lupin muttered something, and a silvery thing shot out of his wand at it, and it turned around and sort of glided away….”

“It was horrible,” said Neville, as he nibbled at his chocolate. “Did you feel how cold it got when it came in?”

“I felt weird,” said Ron, “like I’d never be cheerful again.”

Harry looked around at the others. Ginny and Luna both looked terrible. Ginny was curled up in a corner and looked like she was trying very hard not to cry. Hermione went and put a comforting arm around her. Luna’s daydream gaze was replaced by a strange look of awe-struck terror and heartbreak.

“Did… anyone else--fall off their seat?” Harry asked.

“Luna sort of collapsed,” Ron said awkwardly. “And Ginny was shaking like mad…. You were sort of… doing all of it.”

Harry still felt like he might be sick. He didn’t understand why he’d been affected so strongly. He was also embarrassed. He’d promised his parents to take care of Remus, and here he was, on a day Remus needed plenty of taking care of, passing out and needing to be tended to by Remus. He did not want to write home to his parents about this.

Remus came back into the compartment and looked around with a small smile. “I haven’t poisoned the chocolate, you know. Neville’s got the right idea.”

Harry took a bite of the chocolate and was surprised at how effective it was. He felt warm again, and a the nausea started to ebb.

“We’ll be at Hogwarts shortly,” Remus said. “Are you alright, Harry? Ginny?”

Harry nodded, and Ginny, nibbling slowly at her chocolate did the same.

Remus looked for confirmation from Luna as well, and Harry realized they hadn’t been introduced. Harry was about to say something, but Remus simply nodded, like he was satisfied with everyone’s recovery.

“I’m going to make sure the rest of the students are alright.” And again, he was gone, leaving Harry feeling embarrassed and burdensome.

No one said much for the rest of the train ride. Ginny calmed down after chocolate and some comfort from Hermione. Color came back into Ron and Neville’s cheeks, slowly. Luna’s face was no longer terrified, but it was still very sad, and distant, like she was walking through a fog.

Harry felt much the same, even as they disembarked from the train.

The crowds of students pushed each other across the platform, towards the carriages. There was an unusual sense of simultaneous urgency and lack of excitement. The cold and rain didn’t help.

“Firs’ years this way!” came Hagrid’s voice across the platform. His enormous outline was always easy to spot above the crowds, and the first years flocked to his lantern. He saw Harry, Ron, and Hermione and waved at them. “Alrigh’, you three?”

They waved and rushed to the stage coaches as quickly as they could to get out of the rain. As the stage coaches rumbled along the mud-wrought path through the trees, drawn by an invisible horse, Hermione leaned out to get a better look at the castle. Harry didn’t know how she could in all the cold and rain, but then she said, “They’re here, too.”

And Harry felt cold and sick all over again. He pressed himself back against his seat, waiting for the feeling to pass.

“Alright?” Ron asked him, and Harry didn’t dare risk answering.

By the time the carriage slowed to a stop, Harry was feeling slightly better--until he stepped down and Malfoy’s voice called across the courtyard.

“You fainted, Potter? Is Longbottom telling the truth? You actually fainted?”

Harry could just about wring Neville’s neck, but he couldn’t find Neville. The only person he could vent his rage on was shoving his way past Hermione, to keep Harry from entering the castle. Harry thought about how much effort it would take to hex Malfoy right now and he couldn’t decide if it was worth it or not.

“Shove off, Malfoy,” said Ginny, who was suddenly beside Harry.

“Did you faint as well, Weasley?” Malfoy said loudly. “Did the scary old dementor frighten you, too?”

Harry could tell Ron was about to punch Malfoy, but another voice cut through the crowd.

“Is there a problem here?” Uncle Remus crossed the courtyard slowly, a faint smile on his face.

Malfoy didn’t exactly back down, but Harry watched something odd happen to Malfoy’s face and posture. Harry remembered the near-apology Malfoy had muttered earlier on the train, and now Malfoy looked unusually scolded.

But Malfoy’s voice was no more humble than usual as he said, “No, Professor,” and led Crabbe and Goyle up the stairs.

Remus sighed heavily, and Harry wanted to ask him if he was okay, but Hermione and Ron helped him up the steps and soon they were swept off in the crowd of students headed for the entrance hall.

They had barely walked into the hall, and even though no food was set out yet, Harry could imagine the smell of roast turkey. But Professor McGonagall called out, “Potter! Granger! I want to see you both!”

Harry couldn’t imagine what he could have done so early on in the school year to warrant being in trouble, but there was no fighting with Professor McGonagall.

“There’s no need to look so worried--I just want a word in my office,” she told them. “Move along there, Weasley.”

Ron looked at his friends, like he was double checking with them that it was okay for him to leave them, before heading to the Gryffindor table. Harry watched, both jealous and proud, as Ron started to scold Neville for spreading around that Harry had passed out on the train.

Professor McGonagall led Harry and Hermione up a staircase and down a corridor into her office. There was a fire burning and three chairs beside it. It reminded Harry a lot of how his mother’s office had looked last year, but he’d never exactly considered Professor McGonagall and his mother to be anything alike.

“Are you alright, Harry?” she asked, and motioned for him to take a seat. “Professor Lupin said you’d taken ill on the train.”

It actually took Harry a moment to think who “Professor Lupin” was. Then he grew frustrated. “Yes, I’m fine.”

“I sent a few students down to Madam Pomfrey’s, and I’d like her to check on you as well--”

“I’m fine.”

“At least have some chocolate.”

“I already did.”

Professor McGonagall looked surprised, then pleased. “I suppose I should’ve known Professor Lupin would know what he’s doing. And you’re very sure you feel alright?”

“Yes,” Harry insisted.

“Then I need to have a word with the two of you about your course schedule.”

Before she could say anymore, Harry said, “I’m dropping Muggle Studies, if that’s alright, Professor.”

Hermione looked appalled. “You were so excited about it last spring.”

Harry shrugged his shoulders. “I’d rather not take it. There are a lot of things I need to focus on. I don’t want to take too many classes.” He remembered his parents telling him it was silly to drop a class simply because Sirius had suggested it, and he was in a fight with Sirius. Their words held no more weight now than they had in Flourish and Blotts.

Professor McGonagall studied Harry and Hermione for a moment. “And, Miss Granger, do you have any classes you wish to drop?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Then Harry, kindly wait outside for a moment, and we will go down to the feast together.”

Harry went back into the corridor and leaned against the wall. Madam Pomfrey came by and looked him over. He assured her that he was fine and again repeated that he’d already had some chocolate. She muttered a few choice words about dementors on school grounds that Harry was inclined to agree with, before going back to her infirmary to help any other students who had taken ill from the dementors.

Hermione and McGonagall came out shortly and the three of them made their way back down the stairs and into the Great Hall, where Professor Flitwick was just whisking away a three-legged stool.

“Oh, we’ve missed the Sorting,” Hermione said, disappointed.

Harry was more concerned with the way everyone was whispering and pointing to him. He didn’t know if it was about his experience on the train or if people knew Regulus Black was out to get him and Neville. Maybe they blamed him for the presence of the dementors. Harry sat down next to Ron and decided to stop speculating. Food was the only thing he wanted to think about.

Professor Dumbledore stood from his seat at the teachers’ table. He raised his hands for silence, and the crowded tables of students obliged.

“Welcome,” he said, “to another year at Hogwarts! I have a few things to say to you all, and as one of them is very serious, I think it best to get it out of the way before you become befuddled by our excellent feast. As you will all be aware after their search of the Hogwarts Express, our school is presently playing host to some of the dementors of Azkaban, who are here on Ministry of Magic business.”

He paused, and Harry remembered what his father and Mr. Longbottom had said about the Dumbledore and the dementors.

“They are stationed at every entrance to the grounds, and while they are with us, I must make it plain that nobody is to leave school without permission. Dementors are not to be fooled by tricks or disguises--or even Invisibility Cloaks.” Harry and Ron exchanged a glance. “It is not in the nature of a dementor to understand pleading or excuses. I therefore warn each and every one of you to give them no reason to harm you. I look to the prefects, and our new Head Boy and Girl, to make sure that no student runs afoul of the dementors,” he said.

Percy, a few seats over, practically beamed, as if Dumbledore had said his name personally. Harry resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Ron did not. Fred and George puffed their chests out as well and curled invisible mustaches between the tips of their thumb and finger. Ginny snickered and Harry had to cover his mouth with his hand.

“On a happier note,” Dumbledore continued, “I am pleased to welcome two new teachers to our ranks this year. First, Professor Lupin, who has kindly consented to fill the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.”

The applause was scattered. Harry overheard a seventh year across the table complaining about Professor Potter leaving. Harry imagined they wouldn’t be complaining for long. His mother had been a popular teacher, but he knew Uncle Remus would be just as good, if not better.

“Look at Snape,” Ron hissed in Harry’s ear.

Professor Snape sat beside Professor McGonagall and was giving Remus the worst look of loathing Harry could imagine. Harry didn’t understand. Was Snape also upset about Lily leaving? Or jealous, because Snape wanted the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts? Harry wasn’t sure, but he knew that Snape looked at him the same way sometimes. Maybe it was something Harry really didn’t know about.

“As to our second new appointment,” Dumbledore continued, “I am sorry to tell you that Professor Kettleburn, our Care of Magical Creatures teacher, retired at the end of last year in order to enjoy more time with his remaining limbs. However, I am delighted to say that his place will be filled by none other than Rubeus Hagrid, who has agreed to take on this teaching job in addition to his game-keeping duties.”

The applause for Hagrid was a little more enthusiastic than it had been for Remus. He was relatively well-liked among the students, especially Gryffindor.

“Who else would’ve assigned us a biting book?” Ron laughed.

Dumbledore called for silence one last time. “Well, I think that’s everything of importance! Let the feast begin.”

The food and drink appeared before them, and Harry dug in eagerly. The feeling of cold faded the more he ate and drank and laughed with his friends. He was happy here. The only worry he had was that he was going to have to adjust to calling Uncle Remus “Professor Lupin,” and somehow, that sounded harder than it had been last year to call his mother “Professor Potter.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, comments and headcanons are appreciated!


	6. Talons and Tea Leaves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry's first day of classes probably could've gone worse, but he's not really sure how.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> special thanks to my beta ageofzero!

Harry couldn’t think of anything more embarrassing than breakfast on the first day of classes. As he, Ron, and Hermione walked into the Great Hall, Malfoy made a show of fainting. The Slytherin table erupted into laughter.

Harry slunk into the Gryffindor table, trying to disappear between Fred and George.

“Git,” George grumbled, and passed a plate of toast to Harry. “Wasn’t so cocky about it last night, was he?”

“Came running into our compartment looking like he was going to wet himself,” Fred agreed.

“I wasn’t too happy myself. They’re horrible those dementors.” George shook his head and quickly took a sip of his orange juice, like it might wash out the memory.

“Sort of freeze your insides, don’t they?” Fred said.

“But neither of you passed out,” Harry complained. He took a bite of his toast and tried to look as sturdy as possible. He didn’t want anyone thinking he was going to faint at the drop of a hat.

“S’alright, Harry,” Fred said. “We’ll get him in Quidditch. First game of the season’ll be against Slytherin and you’ll get to show him up on the pitch for real this time.”

Last time Harry had been in a Quidditch match with Draco, Harry’d been bombarded by a rogue bludger that had broken his arm. He’d still managed to catch the Snitch before Malfoy, but Harry was looking forward to a fair Quidditch match, where he could show Malfoy up proper.

While they looked over their schedules, owls began dropping off the morning mail. Harry wasn’t expecting anything on the first day of classes, so he was surprised when Hedwig dropped two letters and a package into his lap. Uncle Remus was at school, and he wasn’t speaking to Sirius, so Harry couldn’t imagine why he was getting two letters.

“Hermione,” Ron said, “there’s something wrong with your schedule. You’ve got about ten subjects a day.”

“I’ll manage. I’ve fixed it all with Professor McGonagall.”

“But look,” said Ron, “see this morning? Nine o’clock, Divination. And underneath, nine o’clock, Muggle Studies, And--look, underneath that, Arithmancy, nine o’clock. How are you supposed to be in three classes at once?”

“Don’t be silly,” said Hermione shortly. “Of course I won’t be in three classes at once.”

“Well, then--”

“Pass the marmalade.”

“But--”

“Oh, Ron, what’s it to you if my schedule’s a bit full?” Hermione snapped. “I told you, I’ve fixed it all with Professor McGonagall.”

Harry found himself quite glad he’d dropped Muggle Studies as he opened his first letter, with his father’s slanted handwriting on the outside. Whatever arrangement Hermione had made with Professor McGonagall sounded like too much work on top of learning new subjects and Quidditch practice.

His father’s letter, unfortunately, didn’t offer a lot of encouragement.

Dear Harry,

Remus wrote and said you’d taken ill on the train. I hope everything’s alright. Dementors are nasty things. Remus and I had to visit Azkaban on business for the Ministry once and it was the worst thing I’d ever been through. You probably don’t remember--you were barely two--but it took about three days for me to feel right again. Be sure you let Madam Pomfrey know if you need anything.

Or, you’re always welcome to come home until this Regulus Black business is sorted. If the dementors start giving you nightmares or you feel like you can’t focus, your mum and I will gladly teach you at home, at least until the dementors are no longer at Hogwarts.

Love,

Dad

Harry crumpled the letter immediately. He didn’t need everyone worrying over him. It was bad enough Draco made fun of him for passing out. He didn’t need his parents swooping in and whisking him off like he was some sort of toddler who couldn’t take care of himself.

“Everything alright?” Ginny asked.

Harry gave a start--he hadn’t seen her sit down across from them. “Er--yeah. Uh, how are you feeling?”

“Better,” she said, and quickly took a bite of her porridge. Her cheeks seemed to turn more pink the longer he looked at her, so Harry quickly opened the second letter.

He recognized his mother’s neat print, as if she were a Muggle-typewriter, and his heart sank at what she might have to say. He also was surprised his parents were writing separately. They’d never done that before. Sure, while his mother was teaching, his father had sent him letters, but in all the time his parents were at home together, they’d always written their letters together. He wondered if everything was alright at home.

Dear Harry,

I’ve already written a strongly worded letter to Dumbledore and the Minister about the dementors. Honestly, boarding the train, where the students were! It’s completely unacceptable, and I can’t imagine how things would have gone if Remus hadn’t been there. I’m so sorry you had to experience that. I can’t say I’ve ever run into a dementor, but the way your father and Remus have described them--it sounds horrendous. I wouldn’t wish it on anyone.

I do hope you’re feeling better. I know lots of chocolate is recommended, so I’ve sent on some for you and your friends to share, if you have need of them.

And please, do talk to Remus if you need anything. I’m sure he’d be more than happy to help you. And I think the company would do him good. He doesn’t like to admit it, but he does get very lonely very quickly. So make sure you talk to him when you can. He’s already told your father and I not to visit Hogsmeade. I’m sure he’s told Sirius the same, though I doubt Sirius will listen. You know how the two of them can be about these things.

Best of luck with your studies. I know third year can be a hard year, with new classes and busier schedules. Maybe you were right to drop Muggle Studies, though honestly I wish you’d dropped Divination. I suppose it’s just a little hard for me to hear, since I did grow up in the Muggle world. You were so fascinated with it when you were little that I thought it might be a class you would enjoy. I’m sure you’ll like Divination just fine. I don’t know anything about the new professor, though. Surely she’s better than the one we had. I know Professor Dumbledore was thinking of removing the class entirely when our professor retired, but changed his mind and hired Professor Trelawney, so she must know what she’s doing. I’m sure you’ll have a wonderful time.

Love,

Mum

Harry felt a lot better about his mother’s letter than his father’s. He slipped it into his school bag and made sure to wave at Uncle Remus before he, Ron, and Hermione went off to find the Divination classroom.

Unfortunately, nothing about their morning went the way Harry’s mother predicted. To start with, they couldn’t even find the Divination classroom. It was in a tower none of them had ever been to, and they finally found it by getting directions from a squat little portrait-knight, who made up for his size with large words and a loud voice. Sir Cadogan led them on their “quest” to the North Tower, where they found Sybil Trelawney's classroom--or rather, the plaque on the ceiling that said her classroom was directly above them.

The entire Gryffindor class waited below, trying to think of how they could get to class, when the trapdoor opened of its own accord and a silver ladder descended from the ceiling.

No one seemed brave enough to climb it first, so Harry took the opportunity to remind his classmates that he was not weak or ill from dementors and began to climb.

The Divination classroom was unusual for a classroom, and their professor even more unusual. Instead of desks, there were several round tables with red and pink table-cloths draped over them. The light in the room was dim and rose-tinted, which Harry thought odd for a classroom. It was also oppressively warm, probably due to the fire that provided most of the light in the room, and it smelled like an old perfume that Harry thought he recognized but couldn’t quite place.

Until Neville came up behind him and whispered, “It smells like my grandmother, but worse.”

That was where Harry recognized the smell from.

Then there was Professor Trelawney herself--large, frizzy hair, huge thick glasses that made her eyes look enormous, and a collection of heavy necklaces draped around her neck so that she looked like a very thin and jeweled beetle.

“Welcome,” she said. “How nice to see you in the physical world at last. Sit, my children, sit.”

Harry, Ron, and Hermione selected one of the round tables with armchairs. Neville ended up falling into a nearby pouf.

“Welcome to Divination. My name is Professor Trelawney,” she said, and sat in a large arm-chair at the front of the fire. “You may not have seen me before. I find that descending too often into the hustle and bustle of the main school clouds my Inner Eye." She adjusted her glasses and continued, "So you have chosen to study Divination, the most difficult of all magical arts. I must warn you at the outset that if you do not have the Sight, there is very little I will be able to teach you. Books can take you only so far in this field….”

Hermione looked startled, and Harry and Ron couldn’t help grinning.

“Many witches and wizards, talented though they are in the area of loud bangs and smells and sudden disappearings, are yet unable to penetrate the field mysteries of the future,” their professor went on. “It is a Gift granted to few.” She surveyed the class, as if looking for the most gifted student, or perhaps the least. “You, boy,” she gestured at Neville, “is your grandmother well?”

Neville’s voice shook as he said, “I think so.”

“I wouldn’t be too sure, my dear.”

Neville looked as white as a ghost, and Harry felt a little bad. It seemed a little unfair to pick on the kid who had, like Harry, spent half the summer hiding from an escaped prisoner who supposedly was hunting down his family. Harry wouldn’t have liked it if she’d picked on him, either.

Harry remembered his father saying he and his friends had been rubbish at Divination. Harry wondered if he would be any better at it. He also remembered Uncle Remus saying something about centaurs being very skilled in Divination, but as Professor Trelawney went on to explain what they would be learning as the school year went on, she didn’t say a word about centaurs. Tea leaves, palmistry, and crystal balls, but nothing about centaurs or stars. Harry was a little disappointed. Though she did give a cryptic message, insinuating someone was going to die around the Easter holidays. Harry thought that a little far-fetched.

“I wonder, dear,” she said, and waved a hand towards Lavender Brown, “if you could pass me the largest silver teapot?”

Lavender took the teapot off the shelf and handed it to Professor Trelawney.

“Thank you, my dear. Incidentally, that thing you are dreading--it will happen on Friday the sixteenth of October.”

Lavender was shaking as she took her seat again.

Harry was beginning to feel a little annoyed as Trelawney went on to explain their tea-reading lesson. He was starting to wonder if he should have taken his mother’s advice and dropped Divination instead of Muggle Studies.

They got up to get teacups, and Professor Trelawney caught Neville by the arm, “And dear, after you’ve broken your first cup, would you be so kind as to select one of the blue patterned ones? I’m rather attached to the pink.”

And as soon as Neville reached for a cup, he knocked it off the shelf and it clattered to the floor. Trelawney handed him a dustpan and reminded him to take a blue one. Harry got a blue one and filled it for Neville, then took his seat at a table with Ron. They drank their tea as quickly as they could without burning their tongues, then swirled the leaves as instructed. Then they traded cups.

Harry stared into Ron’s future blankly. Even with _Unfogging the Future_ , he wasn’t quite sure how to read it.

“What can you see?” Ron prompted.

“Uh, black soggy tea leaves,” Harry said, then consulted the book again. The heavy perfume scents in the room made him feel sluggish and he couldn’t imagine why Remus said he enjoyed the incense. Different professor, different scents?

Professor Trelawney started to walk around the class, pointing things out to students, and scolding Seamus and Dean, who were giggling over their teacups. Harry tried to focus. “Okay, so, you’ve got a crooked sort of cross….” He looked into his book. “That means you’re going to have ‘trials and suffering’--sorry about that--but there’s this thing here that could be the sun… hang on… that means ‘great happiness’ ... so you’re going to suffer, but be very happy….”

“You need your Inner Eye tested, if you ask me,” Ron said, and Harry tried very hard to hide his laughter.

Ron took his turn. He looked into Harry’s teacup and squinted. He turned it, to try to see what might be in Harry’s future. “There’s a blob a bit like a bowler hat. Maybe you’re going to work for the Ministry of Magic.”

Harry wrinkled his nose.

“But if you turn it this way it looks more like an acorn…. What’s that?” He checked his textbook. “‘A windfall, unexpected gold.’ Excellent, you can lend me some… and there’s a thing here that looks like an animal… yeah, if that was its head… it looks like a hippo… no a sheep…”

Harry had to cover his mouth to hide his laughter as Professor Trelawney whirled around.

“Let me see that, my dear.” She practically snatched the cup from Ron.

“The falcon… my dear, you have a deadly enemy.”

“Everyone knows that,” Hermione said and rolled her eyes.

Trelawney stared at her, and so did Harry and Ron.

“Well, they do,” she protested. “Everybody knows about Harry and You-Know-Who.”

Professor Trelawney ignored Hermione and turned her eyes back to Harry’s cup. “The club… an attack. Dear, dear, this is not a happy cup…. The skull… danger in your path, my dear….”

Just as Harry was beginning to wonder how there were so many shapes in that soggy mess, Professor Trelawney gasped and then screamed.

Neville dropped his teacup.

As Trelawney sank into a chair, everyone crowded around Harry’s teacup. Harry didn’t see anything in it.

“What is it, Professor?” asked Lavender Brown.

“No, no, it’s better if I don’t say it.”

“What?” Pavarti pressed.

“My dear,” she began slowly, and stared straight at Harry with her large eyes, “you have the Grim.”

A shiver coursed down Harry’s spine. He knew the stories about large black dogs as omens of death. They were the most common horror story told at home, because all of them ended in a punchline about Sirius Black.

“A what?” Dean Thomas asked.

“The large black dog that haunts church graveyards!” Professor Trelawney exclaimed. “An omen of death!”

Harry looked back into his teacup, but he didn’t see anything that looked like a dog.

“I don’t think it looks like a Grim,” Hermione said.

Professor Trelawney looked over Hermione with pursed lips. “You’ll forgive me for saying so, my dear, but I perceive very little of aura around you. Very little receptivity to the resonances of the future.”

Then Seamus said, “It looks like a Grim if you do this,” and he squinted his eyes so tight they were nearly closed, “but it looks more like a donkey from here,” and he leaned to the left.

Harry was not very impressed, but his classmates looked at him like he’d caught the plague.

“I think we will leave the lesson here for today,” Professor Trelawney said in a distant voice. “Yes… please pack away your things.”

The class was silent as they returned their teacups and packed their bags. Harry was beginning to regret his class choice. He wondered if the large black dog in his teacup was not so much a sign of death but a sign that he should make-up with Sirius. He really didn’t want to.

They had Transfiguration next, and the class was quiet through the whole lesson. No one even gasped nor applauded when Professor McGonagall demonstrated her lesson on Animagi by transforming into a cat. For Harry’s part, he was too annoyed at Sirius to be impressed. For the class, he assumed they were all still terrified he was going to die.

Harry had faced death more times than anyone in this class even knew about, and he’d come out fine so far. He had no intention of dropping dead any time soon.

Hermione told Professor McGonagall they’d just come from Divination and McGonagall sighed.

“I see,” Professor McGonagall said. “And tell me, which of you is to die this year?”

Everyone looked at Harry, and Harry only rolled his eyes. “I’m not going to die.”

“I should say not,” Professor McGonagall said. “Professor Trelawney has predicted the death of one student a year since she arrived at this school. None of them has died yet. Seeing death omens is her favorite way of greeting a new class.”

This seemed to relieve some of the tension, but even as they walked to lunch, Harry still felt like his classmates gave him a wide berth, as if they could catch his dismal future by proxy.

Even Ron, at lunch, said, “But Professor Trelawney was right about Neville’s cup.”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Professor McGonagall has said before that Divination is a very imprecise branch of magic.”

Ron looked very intensely at Harry and asked, “You haven’t seen a great black dog anywhere, have you?”

Harry laughed, because he had, but it wasn’t a Grim it was only Sirius Black. He couldn’t tell Ron that, though, so he just said, “No. No omens of death have crossed my path. Well, just a stray black cat, but Mum says that’s a Muggle superstition.”

“Honestly, Ron,” said Hermione, “you’re being ridiculous. Harry’s not going to die just because Professor Trelawney saw something in his tea leaves that might be a dog.”

“You’re just mad because Professor Trelawney said you don’t have the right aura. You can’t stand being bad at something for a change!”

Hermione stood so quickly she jostled her bowl. “If being good at Divination means I have to pretend to see death omens in a lump of tea leaves, I’m not sure I’ll be studying it much longer! That lesson was absolute rubbish compared with my Arithmancy class!” And like that, she was gone.

“What’s she talking about?” Ron frowned. “She hasn’t been to an Arithmancy class yet.”

\--- --- ---

Harry was excited to get outside, breathe fresh air. He felt like his head finally cleared of the fog left over from Professor Trelawney’s heavily perfumed classroom. And he was looking forward to Care of Magical Creatures with Hagrid.

At least, until, he recognized the backs of three people walking down to Hagrid’s hut in front of him--Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle. Malfoy had his hands stuffed in his robes as they walked down to Hagrid’s and his shoulders hunched near his ears. Harry briefly wondered what had Malfoy in such a sour mood, but he mostly just hoped Malfoy wouldn’t take it out on Hagrid’s lesson.

Hagrid was waiting for them at the door of his hut. He had several weasels draped over his shoulders and he motioned for them to follow him. “C’mon now! Got a real treat for yeh today! Everyone here? Right, follow me!”

Hagrid led them around the edge of the forest to an empty paddock. Harry wondered briefly if they were going to work with something invisible. That sounded kind of exciting and a little terrifying.

“Everyone gather ‘round, make sure you can see.” Though Harry had no idea what they were supposed to see. “Now, firs’ thing yeh’ll want ter do is open yer books.”

“How?” said Draco Malfoy with a roll of his eyes.

“Eh?” asked Hagrid.

“How do we open our books?” Malfoy held up his book, bound tightly with a rope.

Hagrid stared at the class, but all of them looked as confused as Malfoy, and held books belted or clamped shut.

“Yeh’ve got ter stroke ‘em,” said Hagrid. “Look,” and he took Hermione’s copy. She’d bound it with Spellotape, but Hagrid carefully removed it. The book tried to bite him, but he ran his finger down the spine of the book. It shuddered and fell open in his hand.

“Oh, of course,” Malfoy said. “Why didn’t we think of that? The first thing I think when a book tries to bite my hand of is to pet it.”

Harry, however, thought that it was the perfect book for Hagrid’s class. It was so… Hagrid. And it was exactly the way Hagrid saw magical creatures. Which was probably why Hagrid had no trouble in the Forbidden Forest.

As Hagrid went to get the creatures for the class, Malfoy sighed dramatically. “God, this place is going to the dogs.”

Harry didn’t mean to stiffen at the mention of dogs, but he really couldn’t help it. It had been a rough day.

“That oaf teaching classes, my father’ll have a fit when I tell him--”

“Shut up, Malfoy,” Harry snapped.

“Careful, Potter, there’s a dementor behind you--”

“Yeah, and I expect a Grim, too? Do you ever--”

But Lavender Brown squealed in excitement and pointed towards the other side of the paddock. “Look!”

Hagrid was leading the strangest looking creatures over to them. Their heads and front legs were like an eagle, and they had wings, but their size and hind quarters were like a horse. It reminded Harry of a centaur, but with a bird head. Their stare, at least, was just as intimidating as the centaurs Harry had met, and he didn’t think they’d have any guilt about ripping into him with their talons.

Hagrid tethered the creatures to the fence and smiled broadly at the class. “Hippogriffs! Beau’iful, aren’ they?”

Harry was inclined to agree. Terrifying, as he had come to expect from Hagrid’s taste in magical creatures, but beautiful.

Hagrid directed them to the page in their textbooks on hippogriffs, and told them to ignore the rubbish about the anatomy of a hippogriff. He did highlight their diet, which consisted largely of weasels, polecats, and small rodents. He mostly, however, focused on how to treat them. “They’re proud,” he said, “an’ easily offended. Don’t never insult one, ‘cause it might be the last thing yeh do.”

When Hagrid asked for a volunteer to meet a hippogriff, no one stepped forward. Hagrid looked so disappointed that Harry finally said, “I’ll do it.”

“Harry, remember your tea leaves!” Parvati whispered to him.

Harry hopped the fence with newfound confidence.

Hagrid led one of the hippogriffs away from the others and to Harry. “This here is Buckbeak. Yeh’ve got to keep eye contact, now try not ter blink… Hippogriffs don’t trust yeh if yeh blink too much….”

Harry bowed as instructed, and backed away when Buckbeak didn’t return the gesture. Then, slowly, Buckbeak knelt on its scaly forelegs and lowered his head.

“Well done, Harry,” Hagrid said. “Right! Yeh can touch him now, pat his beak, go on.”

Harry pet the hippogriff. It was a little awkward and strange, but he thought about petting Hedwig, and even though Buckbeak was a lot bigger, he seemed to like it just as much. 

“Righ’ then, Harry,” said Hagrid, “I reckon he might let yeh ride him!”

That had not been on Harry’s agenda for the day. But he didn’t have time to really protest as Hagrid helped him onto the hippogriff.

“Jus’ there, behind the wing joint, an’ mind ye don’ pull any of his feathers out, he won’ like that….”

Harry didn’t know where else to hold on. Everything was feathers. But before he could make a decision, Hagrid slapped the hippogriff’s hindquarters, and the beast took off.

Harry far preferred a broomstick. His Nimbus 2000 was smooth and steady. He had control over it. The hippogriff’s wings jostled him every time they moved up and down. He had nothing to hold onto and no idea where they were going. He imagined riding a pegasus might be similar, but at least you could use a bridle on a pegasus.

The hippogriff took him once around the paddock and landed jarringly. Harry had to take a moment to be sure he was steady before climbing down.

“Well done, Harry,” said Hagrid, as everyone cheered. “Who else wants a go?”

The rest of the class climbed cautiously into the paddock. Hagrid untied each of the hippogriffs for the class. Lavender and Parvati took a dark-colored hippogriff with white dapples on her hindquarters. Ron and Hermione practiced bowing for a chestnut hippogriff. Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle, took Buckbeak.

Harry was content to watch. He felt he’d participated in class enough for one day.

“This is very easy,” Malfoy said, as he patted Buckbeak’s beak. “I knew it must have been, if Potter could do it. I bet you’re not dangerous at all, are you, you great ugly brute?”

There was no malice in Malfoy’s voice, but it didn’t matter. Buckbeak reared and his talons cut through Malfoy’s arm. Hagrid was there immediately, wrestling Buckbeak away from Malfoy and back into his collar. Malfoy rolled on the ground, clutching his arm and screaming, blood soaking his robes.

“I’m dying,” he wailed, “Look at me! It’s killed me!”

“Yer not dyin’!” said Hagrid. Hagrid quickly scooped Malfoy up and Hermione held the gate open while Hagrid carried Malfoy up to the castle.

Pansy Parkinson broke into a sob. “They should fire him straight away!”

“Hagrid said don’t insult a hippogriff,” Dean Thomas snapped.

“And it’s in the book,” Hermione added.

This didn’t appease the Slytherins, who still grumbled complaints about Hagrid all the way up to the castle. Pansy disappeared to the infirmary, while everyone else went to their common rooms.

“Do you really think he’ll be alright?” Hermione asked nervously, as soon as they were out of earshot of the Slytherins.

“Of course,” Harry said. “Madam Pomfrey’s fixed up far worse for me. He’ll be fine.”

“Trust Malfoy to mess things up for Hagrid,” Ron grumbled.

Harry planned to give Hagrid some words of encouragement, but Hagrid wasn’t at dinner. 

“They can’t have fired him,” Hermione said, staring at her dinner without eating it.

“They’d better not,” Ron agreed. He, also, had hardly touched his food.

Malfoy and Pansy were also not at dinner. Harry couldn’t understand why. There was no reason Madam Pomfrey couldn’t fix a cut in seconds.

After dinner, Harry made sure to catch Remus before they returned to Gryffindor Tower.

“Uncl--Er, Professor Lupin--”

Remus gave him a rather amused smile. “Yes, Harry?”

“I just--wanted to see--how was your first day of classes?”

“It was fine, Harry.” Remus looked like he was trying very hard not to laugh. “And how was yours?”

“Er--fine.”

But Uncle Remus raised his eyebrows, and Harry let out a heavy sigh. 

“Divination was awful, and everyone thinks I’m going to die. And Malfoy got injured in Care of Magical Creatures because he insulted a hippogriff, even though Hagrid warned us not to, and now Hagrid’s going to get fired.”

“I don’t think Hagrid will be fired,” Remus said, and rested a comforting hand on Harry’s shoulder. “And I’m sorry you aren’t enjoying Divination. I don’t know Professor Trelawney very well, but at least give it some time. It might get better.”

It wasn’t the most encouraging set of words Harry had ever heard, but they still went a long way to lift his spirits. Uncle Remus had always been good at that: Saying what he truly needed to hear, not necessarily what he wanted or thought he needed.

They said goodnight, and Harry went back to the common room with Ron and Hermione. From their window, they could see the light on in Hagrid’s hut and decided to go down and visit him, just to make sure he was really alright.

\--- --- ---

Remus left dinner as soon as he was sure Harry was feeling better and on his way up to his common room. Then he went upstairs to the infirmary.

He knocked gently on the door before pushing it open. Draco Malfoy was lying in one of the beds, with Pansy Parkinson spoon-feeding him soup. Remus wasn’t sure if he should laugh or leave.

Then Madam Pomfrey came out of her office, and her initial irritation melted at the sight of him.

“My favorite patient,” she smiled. “How are you doing, Remus? Feeling alright?”

“Yes, I’m quite fine today,” he smiled. “I actually came to see if Draco was doing alright, but he seems well-tended to.”

Draco straightened in the hospital bed and used his un-slinged arm to push Pansy’s hands away.

“I heard you got into a brawl with a hippogriff,” Remus said to Draco. “I must say, you seem like you came off rather well for such a large beast.”

“It’s a manic bird,” Malfoy said. “Seems rather inappropriate to have such dangerous beasts around students.”

“Ah, yes, all the students who were injured have said the same thing,” Remus said with a smile and fished into his pocket for a chocolate frog. “I heard from a friend that you liked these, so I thought I’d bring you one to cheer you up.” He set it down on Malfoy’s bedside table. “I wish you a speedy recovery--”

Madam Pomfrey scoffed. “Recovery! He’s perfectly fine and is welcome to leave at any time.”

“--and I do still expect to see you both in class Thursday evening. Have a wonderful night,” Remus said, nodding to Pansy and Draco. 

Madam Pomfrey insisted he come back another evening so they could have tea and chat, and he promised her he would.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, comments and headcanons are appreciated!


	7. The Boggart in the Wardrobe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry's first Potions class and Defense Against the Dark Arts class are rather disappointing, actually.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this is late. I'm going to be honest with you: I got drunk last night and forgot to post. Whoops. I remembered at like 2 am, when my laptop was far away, and my sense of self even further. So I did it first thing in the morning! I love all of you and your comments.
> 
> Special thanks to my beta ageofzero who is always a wonderful help when it comes to not only grammar, but also characterization and story elements.

“Orange, Longbottom,” said Snape. He dipped his ladle into Neville’s potion and let it splash back into the cauldron so everyone could see.

Neville went very pink, and started trembling as badly as he had in Professor Trelawney’s class. Potions might’ve been Harry’s least favorite class, but he wasn’t sure he dreaded it half as much as Neville did.

“Does nothing penetrate that thick skull of yours?” Professor Snape went on. “Didn’t you hear me say, quite clearly, that only one rat spleen was needed? Didn’t I state plainly that a dash of leech juice would suffice? What do I have to do to make you understand, Longbottom?”

Harry thought Neville looked like he might start to cry.

“Please, sir,” Hermione began, “please, I could help Neville put it right--”

“I don’t remember asking you to show off, Miss Granger,” Snape said.

The Slytherin table laughed. Harry shot them a glare, but they only laughed harder.

“Longbottom,” said Snape, “at the end of this lesson we will feed a few drops of this potion to your toad and see what happens. Perhaps that will encourage you to do it properly.”

Snape moved away, and Harry stared after him with a cold glare. His own Shrinking Potion glittered dangerously close to red, and he quickly added his shrivelfig.

“Help me,” Neville mouthed to Hermione, his face the epitome of utter desperation.

Seamus Finnigan leaned over Harry’s cauldron to borrow his brass scales. “Hey, Harry, have you heard? Daily Prophet this morning--they reckon Regulus Black’s been sighted.”

“Where?” Harry and Ron asked quickly.

Neville dropped an extra caterpillar in his cauldron. Hermione quickly hissed at him to grab it before it dissolved into the potion.

“Not too far from here,” said Seamus. His eyes glinted with excitement. “It was a Muggle who saw him. ‘Course, she didn’t really understand. The Muggles think he’s just an ordinary criminal, don’t they? So she phoned in the hot line. By the time the Ministry of Magic got there, he was gone.”

“Not too far from here….” Ron looked between Harry and Neville. Then he noticed Malfoy watching them from across the classroom, so he made a face at him.

“But he can’t get into the castle,” Harry whispered to Ron. “He has to know that.”

“There’s dementors everywhere,” Ron agreed.

“And Dumbledore,” said Harry. There was no way anyone could get past Dumbledore.

“You should have finished adding your ingredients by now,” said Snape. “This potion needs to stew before it can be drunk, so clear away while it simmers and then we’ll test Longbottom’s.”

Harry took his scales back from Seamus and started packing his things. He looked over to Neville, whose potion was now a yellowish-green. Hermione was still muttering instructions to him while she packed up her own very large bag.

Then Snape went and stood by Neville’s cauldron. “Everyone gather ‘round, and watch what happens to Longbottom’s toad. If he has managed to produce a Shrinking Solution, it will shrink to a tadpole. If, as I don’t doubt, he has done it wrong, his toad is likely to be poisoned.”

Harry had to bite back at least seven foul things he wanted to say to Snape. He couldn’t understand why Snape always picked on him and Neville, but he thought it was a bit too early in the school year to start earning detentions. Especially detention with Snape.

It was so silent you could have heard a quill fall from a desk as Snape picked Trevor the toad up. He dripped a small spoonful into Trevor’s mouth and when the toad swallowed, he turned into a tiny tadpole in Snape’s hand.

Snape’s face was sour as he dripped another potion from his robes onto Trevor and Trevor returned to a regular-sized toad again.

“Five points from Gryffindor,” Snape said. “I told you not to help him, Miss Granger. Class dismissed.”

Harry shoved his things into his bag and helped Neville clean up the potion. He, Neville, Ron, and Hermione climbed the steps back up to the entrance hall.

As soon as they were out of the dungeons, Ron said, “Five points from Gryffindor because the potion was alright!”

“Snape’s a jerk,” Harry agreed. “How’s Trevor?” he asked Neville.

“Alright, I think,” Neville said, and put Trevor back into his pocket. “I’m sorry I got you in trouble, Hermione--”

But when they turned around, Hermione wasn’t there.

“Where’d she go?” Ron asked. “She was right behind us.”

But the only people coming up the steps were Malfoy and his cronies.

“How’s your toad, Longbottom?” Malfoy sneered. “Good thing you have Granger around to do your potions for you. Expect her to stop Regulus Black for you, too?”

Neville went very pale and Harry stood between him and Draco. Ron did the same.

“Back off, Malfoy. You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Harry said.

Malfoy’s eyes glittered. “No? So, I take it Longbottom’s going to catch Black single-handedly, then? Are you going to help? Don’t you think you’d just pass out at the sight of a dementor?”

“You don’t know anything, Malfoy,” Neville said suddenly.

Malfoy scowled at Neville. “I know enough to know that if Regulus Black did to my family what he did to yours, I’d have gone after him myself by now. I wouldn’t be hiding in the castle like a--”

They never found out what Malfoy was going to call Neville, because he was cut off by a gasp that sounded like Hermione. Ron, Neville, and Harry, pushed past Malfoy and found Hermione at the bottom of the stairs, bag ripped open, and books spilled out on the stone floor.

Harry, Ron, and Neville helped her pick them up. Ron turned over a particularly large Ancient Runes book to look at the cover.

“Why do you have all these books?” he asked.

“You know how many subjects I’m taking,” she said as she mended the seam on her bag.

“But it’s only Defense Against the Dark Arts this afternoon.”

“Oh, yes,” she said and took her books from Neville. “I hope there’s something good for lunch. I’m starving.”

\--- --- ---

When the Gryffindor students showed up for Defense Against the Dark Arts, their teacher wasn’t present. The students sat down and took out their parchment and quills. Harry realized he hadn’t seen Uncle Remus at lunch, and he wondered if Remus had slept in late.

But Remus was only a few minutes more, and Harry was relieved to see how much better he looked today than he had on the train.

“Good afternoon,” Professor Lupin said. “Go ahead and put your books away. Today’s lesson will be practical.”

The class packed away their books excitedly. They’d never had a practical lesson, even with Professor Potter. The closest they’d come was Professor Lockhart’s pixie disaster last year, in which Ron’s wand had broken.

Neville and Pavarti seemed appropriately nervous. Seamus and Dean, however, followed Professor Lupin out of the classroom eagerly. Harry was right behind them.

Professor Lupin took the class down a deserted corridor and then around a corner. They came across Peeves the Poltergeist, stuffing chewing gum into a locked door. Then the ghost took note of Lupin and blew a loud, wet raspberry at him.

“Loony, loopy Lupin,” Peeves sang loudly. “Loony, loopy Lupin, loony, loopy Lupin.”

Harry, who had grown up with his father and Sirius jumping to Remus’s defense over everything, felt incredibly angry with Peeves. If James had heard anyone call Remus “loony” there would have been an all-out brawl. And then Remus would have chided him for making a scene. Harry wondered if Peeves knew Remus’s secret. He wondered if Remus was nervous about it at all.

But Uncle Remus was still smiling at Peeves and said, “I’d take that gum out of the keyhole if I were you, Peeves. Mr. Filch won’t be able to get into his brooms.”

But Peeves only continued with his song. The only people Peeves listened to were the Bloody Baron, Professor Dumbledore, and on occasion, Professor McGonagall. Peeves never listened to even Snape, so it was no surprise that he ignored a request from Professor Lupin.

But Remus, still smiling, took out his wand. “Pay attention, class. This is a very useful spell.” He pointed his wand straight at Peeves and said, “ _Waddiwasi!_ ”

The chewing gum bolted out of the keyhole and straight up Peeves’s nose. The class erupted into laughter.

Harry’d seen Sirius use that spell on his father once. His mother hadn’t been pleased to come home and find the kitchen torn apart.,

“Cool, sir!” said Dean.

“Where’d you learn that?” asked Seamus.

“A good friend of mine invented it. Shall we proceed?” He tucked his wand back into his robes and led them further down the corridor, all the way to the staffroom. He opened the door and ushered them inside.

Harry had been in here once before, last year, when he’d come to tell the teachers what they’d learned about the Chamber of Secrets. The wardrobe he and Ron had hid in was in one corner, and at the table of mismatched chairs sat Snape. Snape did not look very pleased to see the class and stood.

“Leave the door open, Lupin. I’d rather not witness this.” When he reached the door, he paused and turned around. “Possibly no one’s warned you, Lupin, but this class contains Neville Longbottom. I would advise you not to entrust him with anything difficult. Not unless Miss Granger is hissing instructions in his ear.”

Neville went red, and Harry watched something tighten in Remus’s jaw, but his smile didn’t waver.

“I was hoping that Neville would assist me with the first stage of the operation, and I’m sure he will perform it admirably.”

Snape’s sneer sharpened, and Harry suddenly remembered his first year, when Sirius and Remus had mentioned some sort of history with his parents and Snape. He’d forgotten about it, because his mother had seemed to get along with Snape so well when she was here. But it all came back to him as Snape closed the door with a relatively loud bang.

“Now then,” said Remus, and he led the class to the old wardrobe Harry had hidden himself in just three months earlier. The wardrobe wobbled against the wall.

“Nothing to worry about,” Remus said as some students stepped backwards. “It’s only a boggart in there.”

Harry thought a boggart was definitely something to worry about. In fact, about half the class took another step away from the wardrobe. Even Harry thought this might be outside their ability to manage. He didn’t know why Uncle Remus was giving them this for their first day of class.

“Boggarts like dark, enclosed spaces,” Remus explained. “Wardrobes, the gap beneath beds, the cupboards under sinks--I’ve even met one that had lodged itself in a grandfather clock.”

Harry had heard that story. He’d been too young to remember it himself--only a few months old. The clock that he’d grown up with, chiming every hour and at odd intervals in-between, had become home to a boggart. The story got retold a lot because apparently Sirius had discovered it and refused to fight it. He’d held Harry in the kitchen while James, Lily, Remus, and their friend Peter finished off the creature.

Harry was not particularly excited to fight anything Sirius was terrified of.

“Firstly,” Remus began, “What is a boggart?”

“A shape-shifter,” Hermione said. “It takes the shape of whatever it thinks will frighten us most.”

“Very good,” Remus said, and Hermione beamed. “So the moment I open that wardrobe, he’ll immediately become whatever each of us most fears. This means we have a huge advantage before we even start. Have you spotted it, Harry?”

Harry eyed the wardrobe warily. He tried to think of the story he’d heard from his parents, and how it compared to their situation now. “Er--because there are so many of us, it won’t know what shape it should be?”

“Precisely,” Remus said. “It’s always best to have company when you’re dealing with a boggart.”

He then explained to them how to use the spell necessary to fight the boggart. The class repeated, “ _Riddikulus_ ,” until Remus was sure they had it right.

Then he called Neville forward. “The spell is the easy part, I’m afraid. This, Neville, is where you come in.”

Neville looked as white as he’d looked in Potions just hours earlier. Harry wondered if he should tell Remus that maybe Neville wasn’t the best person to single out in a classroom, but ultimately, Harry trusted Remus, so he said nothing.

“First things first: what would you say is the thing that frightens you most in the world?”

Neville’s answer was so quiet, Remus bent down closer and said with a smile, “Didn’t catch that, Neville, sorry.”

In the barest whisper, Neville said, “Professor Snape.”

The class laughed. Even Remus looked amused. “I see. And, I believe you spent part of your summer with your grandmother this year?”

“Er--yes, but I don’t want the boggart to turn into her either.”

“No, of course not. I’d like to picture your grandmother’s clothes very clearly in your mind. Can you see them, Neville?”

“Er--yes.”

“When the boggart bursts out of the wardrobe, Neville, and sees you, it will assume the form of Professor Snape. And you will raise your wand--like this--and say, ‘ _Riddikulus_ ,’ and concentrate hard on your grandmother’s clothes. Can you do that?”

Neville nodded nervously.

“Alright then.” And Remus, with a flick of his wand, opened the door of the wardrobe.

Out stepped Professor Snape, a little taller than Harry remembered, nose a little larger--clearly the boggart was merely reflecting all the things about Snape that terrified Neville, including his terrible glare.

Neville took a step backwards, wand arm shaking. “ _R-riddikulus!_ ” he squeaked.

There was a loud crack and Snape stumbled. Suddenly, he was wearing a long, lace-trimmed dress and a huge hat with a stuffed vulture on top, and in his hand was a bright red purse.

The class erupted into laughter and the boggart paused, terribly confused.

“All of you,” Remus said, “picture what you fear most and find a way to make it comical. Parvati, your turn.”

Parvati stepped forward eagerly. The boggart turned to her and changed into a mummy, blood-stained and bandaged. She raised her arm and said, “Riddikulus!” and the mummy became tangled in its wrappings. It tripped and its head rolled off.

“Seamus, you next!” Remus called.

Harry watched Seamus turn a banshee silent and wondered what he should do about his boggart. His first thought, of course, was Lord Voldemort. He remembered the terror he’d felt facing the dark wizard when he was eleven, and again, at the age of twelve, destroying the diary. He thought maybe he could make a basilisk funny by replacing its fangs with false teeth, but he wasn’t sure the boggart would turn into a basilisk. How did he make Vol--but then he remembered the dementor, and the cold fear that had taken over him while he was on the train. He remembered the scream and the flashes of light. He had no idea how to fight that.

The boggart shifted quickly as each student stepped forward. Ron’s greatest fear was spiders, and Ron turned it into a spider without legs. The spider rolled towards Harry. He raised his wand, still not sure what he would change about a dementor to make it less terrifying, but Remus suddenly came between him and the boggart.

For a brief moment, the boggart became a silvery-white orb, then Remus said, “ _Riddikulus_ ,” as easily as he might ask Lily to pass the salt.

There was a crack and Remus called Neville forward to finish the boggart off.

They had a brief, final glimpse of Snape in a lacy dress before Neville laughed and the boggart exploded into a smoke and was gone.

“Excellent,” Remus said. “Well done, everyone. Five points for every person to tackle the boggart--ten to Neville who did it twice… and five each to Hermione and Harry.”

“I didn’t do anything,” Harry said, a little put-out that Remus hadn’t let him tackle the boggart.

“You and Hermione answered my questions correctly at the start of class. Alright, everyone, kindly read the chapter on boggarts and summarize it for me. Hand it in at your next class. That will be all.”

The class gathered their things excitedly, but Harry was not quite as thrilled.

“Did you see me take that banshee!” Seamus shouted.

“And the hand,” Dean said eagerly.

“Snape in the hat,” laughed Pavarti.

“I wonder why Professor Lupin’s frightened of crystal balls?” asked Lavender as the class left.

Harry knew what that shining orb had been, and he was glad everyone else had misinterpreted it. He waited at the door for Remus instead of following his class. 

“Uncle Remus,” he said.

Remus smiled at him, “Professor Lupin, Harry.”

“Er--yeah, sorry. I’ll adjust. I was just…. Why didn’t you let me fight the boggart?”

Remus laughed gently. “I thought it was obvious. I assumed it would turn into Lord Voldemort. I didn’t think Voldemort materializing in the staff room was a very good idea.”

“Er--no, I suppose not.” Harry wondered if he should tell Remus that it wasn’t Voldemort he was so terrified of, but the dementors instead. He was still ashamed of passing out on the train, and he didn’t want Remus to think he was afraid of anything, really.

“I believe you have a History of Magic class to get to? And I have some first years to instruct. We can talk more about this later, Harry.”

“Okay, yeah.” Harry picked up his bag, not feeling much better.

As Harry and Remus walked back to their respective classrooms, Remus paused before they split corridors and asked, “Before you go--was Draco Malfoy in class this morning?”

“Yeah. He was particularly mean to Neville about Regulus Black being spotted. Why? Can you give him detention for me?”

Remus laughed. “I will do my absolute best to. I’m just glad Madam Pomfrey got him all fixed up.”

“It was just a cut. Buckbeak wasn’t trying to hurt him. Malfoy just wasn’t listening--”

“I believe you. However, Draco reminds me of his father in some ways, and I couldn’t help remembering--Ah, we’re both late now, and I shouldn’t be making a habit of this. Go on. I’ll see you soon.”

Harry had never left a conversation so confused and bewildered, and still disappointed he didn’t get the chance to prove himself with the boggart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, comments and headcanons are appreciated!


	8. Tea with a Grindylow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ginny wants to try out for Quidditch and Harry wants to go to Hogsmeade.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter will probably answer a lot of questions because I can't really be secretive. However, I hope by the time you get to the end of it, you will have plenty more questions to keep you interested.

October started, and so did Quidditch. That meant early morning practices on the weekends, and late nights during the school week.

Harry dragged himself to breakfast one morning, after a particularly rough practice, and ate his toast next to a relatively bruised Fred and George, who had spent the morning pelting each other with Bludgers. They ate their toast with a half-awake gaze as well.

Ron and Hermione came downstairs with Neville and Ginny close behind him. Hermione wrinkled her nose and helped herself to the porridge. “You three need a shower,” she said.

“Food first,” George said.

“Then maybe a nap,” said Fred.

Ginny seemed quite red in the face as she poured herself some orange juice. Harry, however, was quite used to her embarrassment and clumsiness around him by now, and said nothing as she accidentally spilled some on the table.

“D’you think we’re going to win the Quidditch Cup this year?” Ron asked.

“I think Wood will leap off the Astronomy Tower if we don’t,” Fred said.

George nudged him in the ribs with his elbow.

“Fine. I think Wood will be very disappointed if we don’t. But really, it is a good team. As long as there aren’t any unforeseen accidents,” Fred shrugged.

Everyone looked at Harry.

“I’m sorry, I don’t plan to have Voldemort attack the school during every Quidditch final,” Harry snapped and finished off his toast.

Ginny looked like she was about to say something, but quickly closed her mouth.

“You’ll do great this year, Harry,” Neville said.

“He always does,” George agreed and clapped Harry’s shoulder.

“Are there--are there going to be tryouts this year?” Ginny finally asked in a very quiet voice.

Fred and George suddenly looked very uncomfortable. Ron nearly choked on his eggs.

“You, go out for Quidditch?” Ron said. “Mum would murder all of us.”

“I still have my broom from Uncle Fabian and Gideon,” she said defiantly. “I can play.”

“Tell you what,” Fred said, “there aren’t any positions open right now. Wood’s graduating though, so there’s going to be some changing of the guard. Train as a reserve this year, and then maybe next year you’ll be able to play.”

“But first you’ll need Mum’s permission,” George said, “There are a lot of Mum’s rules I’m happy to break, but I’m not going to risk a Howler when she finds out you’ve been on a broom while under our watch.”

“We don’t have to tell her,” Ginny said.

They all glanced down to the end of the table where Percy Weasley was admonishing some first years to stay away from the Whomping Willow.

“Tonks played Quidditch,” Harry said, trying to be helpful. “And we have three girls on the team. Maybe Tonks can talk to your mum.”

Fred choked on his juice. “Mum does not like Nymphadora. You’re going to have to ask someone Mum does like to talk to her.”

“Like your mum,” George suggested, look at Harry.

“My mum?” Harry raised an eyebrow. “She’s great but she’s not good at Quidditch.”

“But Mum likes her,” Fred said, eyes bright with the idea. “Your mum’s a saint in our house for saving Ginny. If your mum says Quidditch is a good idea, and that Ginny should play, then our mum will definitely listen.”

Harry wasn’t sure he understood the logic, but he agreed to write to his mother anyway. It couldn’t hurt anything to try.

“One time,” Neville said, “I asked my mum for a broom, and my dad freaked out and said that Quidditch causes about seven hundred injuries a year.”

“And that,” Fred said, “is precisely why your dad is not going to write to our mum.”

\--- --- ---

The weather grew cold and wet more quickly than Harry was prepared for. Quidditch practices went longer, but they were more invigorating for it. He was confident in their team’s ability. They’d crush Slytherin next month.

He and the team came back to the Common Room feeling cold and stiff, but excited. The room was full of chatter, louder than usual, and a few were crowded around the bulletin board.

Harry’s first thought was Regulus Black, but no one looked terrified. “What’s happened?” he asked Ron and Hermione, who were working on their Astronomy homework.

“First Hogsmeade weekend. Halloween.”

“Excellent,” said Fred. “I need to visit Zonko’s. I’m nearly out of Stink Pellets.”

George offered to take Harry’s broom back upstairs.

Harry thanked him and sat down next to Ron, but all his energy from practice had faded suddenly.

“I’m sure you’ll be able to go next time,” Hermione said, as if she could read his mind. “Black’s been spotted once. They’ll catch him soon.”

Ron’s eyes lit up and he leaned forward. “Maybe we can sneak Harry out of the castle.”

“That’s dangerous!” Hermione said.

“It’s Hogsmeade. Black’s not fool enough to come after Harry there.”

“You can’t possibly know that. Besides, Dumbledore said that dementors can’t be fooled by Invisibility Cloaks.”

“It’s fine,” Harry sighed. “Mum says they’re working really hard to catch Black. I’m sure I’ll be able to go to the next one.”

“Did your mum say anything about Ginny?” Hermione asked, and Harry was grateful to her for changing the subject.

“She said she’d write to Mrs. Weasley. I don’t know what Mrs. Weasley said. I think Ginny’s practicing on her own anyway.”

Ron shook his head. “Mum’ll yell at Fred and George before she yells at me, so--” He stifled a small scream as Crookshanks leapt into Hermione’s lap. “Does he have to eat that in front of us?”

Hermione, however, was not bothered by the spider, and cooed at her cat, offering him quite a bit of praise for his kill.

Harry yawned and Ron slid his star chart over to Harry.

“You can copy mine, if you like. It’s nearly done.”

Hermione made a small, disapproving noise in the back of her throat.

“It’s not like I won’t be learning anything,” Harry said. “I can copy off Ron, or I can copy off the book. Ron’s is all on one page, at least.”

Hermione’s disdainful expression didn’t waver as she stroked her cat.

Then Ron’s bag squeaked, and Crookshanks leapt at the bag. There was a loud tousle of hissing and squeaking. Ron knocked a bottle of ink all over his star chart as he tried to free Scabbers from his bag. Hermione knocked a stack of books over, right onto Harry’s foot.

Harry’s first thought was, “At least it won’t affect Quidditch,” before the pain even set in.

Finally, after Hermione and Ron got their cat and weasel separated, and Harry vanished the ink off of Ron’s star chart, Ron started yelling.

“That cat is mad, Hermione!”

“Your bag squeaked, and he’s a cat. It’s in his nature!”

“You should train him better, so he doesn’t go around hurting innocent animals.”

“You just don’t like Crookshanks because--because--Ugh, Scabbers is the one who attacked Crookshanks on the train. This isn’t my fault.”

Ron held the weasel against his chest. “That thing’s not allowed near Scabbers, ever.”

“I think it’s better for the common room if Scabbers and Crookshanks aren’t in the same room,” Harry said quickly, because everyone else in the common room was beginning to stare at Ron and Hermione.

“Fine,” Ron said, and went upstairs to put Scabbers away.

“I’m not keeping Crookshanks cooped up,” Hermione snapped. “He’s a cat and he has to hunt. Everyone else lets their cats wander around.”

Harry shrugged his shoulders helplessly. This was what he got for befriending the two most stubborn people in his house.

\--- --- ---

Harry saw Ron and Hermione off to Hogsmeade on Halloween morning.

“Are you sure about the cloak?” Ron whispered at the entrance hall.

Harry nodded. “I’ll see you guys at the feast tonight. Have fun.” He waved as Ron and Hermione ran to catch up to Dean and Seamus.

Malfoy laughed as he passed Harry. “Scared of passing the dementors, Potter?”

But Harry ignored him and continued back up the steps. He knew exactly what to do with his day. It was the first day after a full moon, and he wanted to check on Remus.

He didn’t make it very far before he ran into Neville, Ginny, and Luna in the middle of a corridor. They were dressed warmly, clearly on their way out somewhere.

“Hi, Harry,” Neville said with a bright smile. “I forgot you can’t go to Hogsmeade either. Want to come with us?”

“Er--” Harry noticed Ginny’s face darken about three shades. She had her broom in her hand, and he wondered if he should say yes. He couldn’t imagine Neville or Luna were going to be much help to Ginny if she was learning how to fly. But he did want to check on Remus. “--thanks. I might join you later, if that’s alright.”

“Are you sure?” Neville asked.

“Yeah, I, uh--I’ve got some homework to finish up.”

“Alright. See you later, then, Harry,” Neville said.

Luna waved at him as they passed, and Ginny tried very hard not to look straight at him.

Harry continued his walk to Remus’s office. When he reached it, he knocked quietly, wondering if Remus would even be well enough to answer the door.

But Remus did answer, fully dressed and awake, though a little pale. He looked surprised to see Harry. “Well, hello. What are you doing here?”

“I came to see how you were.”

“You really didn’t have to,” Remus said with a faint smile. “And where are your friends?”

“Er--Hogsmeade.”

“Oh. Would you like to come in for a cup of tea? I’ve just taken delivery of a grindylow for your next lesson.”

That explained why Remus was awake so early the day after the full moon. Harry thought he shouldn’t impose, but he had wanted to check on Remus and he did want to see a grindylow.

“Sure.”

Harry followed Remus into his office. It looked a lot like when his mum had used it, which was to say, it looked a lot like Harry’s home.

The main difference was that Remus had moved the chairs next to the fireplace and the desk under the window. In the corner of the room stood a large tank of water with a grindylow making grotesque faces against the glass.

“Vicious little water demons,” Remus said as he tapped a kettle with his wand. “It shouldn’t be too difficult for your class, though.”

Remus poured the hot water into a chipped mug and added a teabag to it. “I’ve only got teabags, I’m afraid, but I heard you had enough of tea leaves?” he said with a small smile.

Harry took the mug and made a mental note to buy Remus a proper tea set for Christmas. “Honestly, Divination might be worse than Potions. I wish you hadn’t told me to take it.”

“Professor Cressida wasn’t nearly as… dramatic as Professor Trelawney is,” Remus said. “You’re not worried about your tea leaves are you?”

Harry almost laughed, but he restrained himself. “No. It’s just a bit annoying.” Harry sipped at the warm tea. “Have you uh, talked to Sirius?”

Remus sighed heavily and sat down in one of the chairs by the fireplace. Harry took the opposite chair.

“Sirius and I have exchanged a few letters. He’s actually in Hogsmeade now,” Remus checked the watch on his wrist, “if he hasn’t gone home yet. Last night we used your parents’ flat in Hogsmeade for the….” Like it so often was at home, the words necessary to describe a werewolf transformation were silent. Remus cleared his throat. “However, I’m not sure he’ll be alright until this Regulus Black business is put behind us.”

“What happened between them?” Harry asked. “Why does Sirius get so upset?” At the least, Harry knew he would get an honest answer of of Remus, even if it was incomplete. 

Remus ran a hand over his mouth thoughtfully. “Not everyone has as wonderful a relationship with their parents as you do, Harry.”

“Like how Mrs. Weasley won’t let Ginny play Quidditch?”

“That’s… actually, a very good example. Sirius’s parents had a lot of things they expected him to be. He was none of them. He and Regulus were close for many years, until Regulus started to meet all the expectations Sirius could not. And, well, I think Sirius felt betrayed and a little jealous. That was the start, anyway.”

“Did you have a good relationship with your parents?” Too late, Harry realized it probably wasn’t an appropriate question.

But Remus didn’t look offended or startled. He only said, “My mother was the most wonderful person in the world. I miss her dearly. You’re very lucky to have your parents, Harry.”

Harry knew there were times he wasn’t grateful for his parents, like when his parents refused to sign his Hogsmeade permission slip or grounded him for half the summer. But he also knew Remus was right.

“I’m sorry about your Mum.”

“It was a very long time ago. Before you were born. Before you were even--well, I don’t think your parents even liked each other at the time.”

“Does that really make it easier?”

“A little. And friends make it easier.”

Harry considered this as he sipped at his tea. “Will Sirius come to my Quidditch match next month?”

“I’m sure your parents will drag him out to watch you play. If anyone can talk sense into Sirius, it’s your father, and if anyone can make him do something he doesn’t want to do, it’s your mother.”

“If you’re not feeling well, you don’t have to come.”

Remus smiled. “I appreciate the concern, but it’s a few days before.... I think it will be alright.”

“Well, it’ll be against Slytherin, so, if you want to cheer for Malfoy--”

Remus laughed, louder than Harry had heard him laugh in a long time. “Are you upset I haven’t given Draco a detention?”

“No, not upset. Just… surprised. He’s as rude to me as ever, but yesterday I heard him tell off Pansy Parkinson for the comment she made about your robes. And last year you sent him that chocolate frog when he hexed me. You know his family’s all pureblood supporters, right? Aren’t you worried he’ll, you know, find out? Especially now that you’re teaching here?”

“I imagine there are a handful of students clever enough to discover the signs. However, I expect that Draco is not one of them. Not that he isn’t clever, but that he isn’t looking. You’d be surprised how many things someone will ignore simply because they aren’t expecting it.”

“But do you have to be so nice to him?”

“I believe Draco Malfoy and I have things in common, and I do not want to see him make some of the same mistakes I did when I was his age.”

“You never made mistakes.”

But Remus’s smile was a little distant, and he said, “Everyone does, Harry. And it’s our job as adults to prevent you from making the same ones, and sometimes that means letting you make your own, but a lot of the time it means preventing you from repeating ours.”

Harry was getting very tired of the phrase, “our job as adults.” He swore to never use it when he had children. If he had children.

“I know you’re still upset with Sirius,” Remus said, “but give him time. He’s got a lot to work through, and I’m sorry he took it out on you, but he will come around and apologize. He always does. It’s just going to take him a little longer this time.”

Harry sort of understood when Remus put it like that. Sirius overreacted to things a lot. The fight Harry and Sirius had during the summer had just been a little worse than usual, and Sirius was going to take longer to figure it out. Harry didn’t really want to be patient about it, but he supposed he would have to be.

He and Remus talked very late into the afternoon, until Harry realized he’d promised to catch up with Ginny, Neville, and Luna. He apologized to Remus quickly, and headed back towards the Entrance Hall.

Ginny, Neville, and Luna were already headed back inside, and they met Harry halfway up the marble staircase.

“I’m sorry,” he said quickly. “My uh--essay took longer than I thought it would.”

“That’s alright,” Luna said. “Ginny is very fast.”

“Oh. Cool.” He wondered if Luna knew how fast Quidditch players were supposed to go.

“Hurry up,” Ginny said. “I want to get this back to George’s room before he notices it’s gone.”

Harry hadn’t even realized that Ginny had borrowed George’s broom, but it was unmistakably her brother’s. He walked back towards the common room with them, and noticed that in addition to the broom, Ginny was carrying a rather large, black something.

“What is that?” he asked Ginny.

“It’s a cat,” Neville said. “It probably belongs to a student.”

“I think it’s a stray,” Luna said dreamily. “It wasn’t very friendly.”

“It only came when I gave it some of my lunch, so that makes it mine now,” Ginny said, and held it more tightly, as if daring Harry to take it from her.

It was soaking wet from the rain, with matted fur, and mud clung to its droopy whiskers. It really didn’t look like it belonged to anyone. “Why do you want a cat?” Harry asked.

“Hermione can have one, so why can’t I?”

Harry wasn’t used to Ginny being so defiant with him about anything. He was kind of surprised. He wondered if Ginny was tired of people telling her what she could and couldn’t do. That was something he could relate to. “I didn’t say you couldn’t. There are a lot of stray cats wandering the castle. I’m sure it’s happy to have a home.”

“What are you going to call it?” Neville asked.

“All cats have three names,” Luna said. “First is the name you give it. A rather normal name, like Philip. And then the name you actually call it. Like Christmastime. And then all cats have their secret name, that only they know, and no one else.”

Harry thought of his family’s cat at home, that they’d had for many years, and how many times it had responded to any of the names he or his parents or had given to it. Cats probably did have secret names no one could know. “So,” he asked Ginny, “what are you going to name him?”

“Llywelyn,” she mumbled shyly.

“Why?” asked Harry.

Ginny’s face went very red and she said, “Because,” and then they were at the portrait of the Fat Lady.

“Password?” the Fat Lady asked.

“Sorry, Luna, you’ll have to go,” Neville said.

Luna didn’t look sorry at all. “I’ll see you at the feast,” she told them, and skipped back down the corridor, presumably to her own Common Room.

“Fortuna Major,” Harry said, and the Fat Lady swung the door open for them. Ginny quickly went upstairs to return George’s broom.

Neville sat down in a chair near the fireplace, and Harry leaned against the mantle. They were quiet for a while, waiting for Ginny, until Neville finally said, “You don’t suppose there’s anything we can do about catching Regulus Black, is there?” Neville asked suddenly.

Harry was a little startled by the question. It seemed unlike Neville. Or maybe Neville was as disappointed about Hogsmeade as Harry was.

“I can’t imagine what,” he said, though he had imagined several different scenarios in which he got to Regulus Black before anyone else, and got answers about those letters.

“Those letters you had, weren’t there any clues about where he might be hiding?”

Everyone in the letters was dead or in Azkaban, except for two people. Narcissa and Malfoy. “You don’t think Draco’s parents are Death Eaters, do you?” Harry asked.

Neville’s brow knit together. “I know Mum and Dad don’t like them. They go to a lot of the same parties, for the Ministry, and for purebloods. Not because my parents believe in that stuff,” he added hastily, “but they’re on that list of people, and Gran goes. She says it keeps face. Mum really hates the Malfoys, but if they were Death Eaters, they’d be in Azkaban, wouldn’t they?”

Harry thought about how Malfoy got away with everything, and wondered if Lucius Malfoy had somehow simply escaped Azkaban. He wondered if Malfoy had teased Neville not just to pick on Neville, but because he knew where Black really was. Before he could voice his doubts to Neville, however, there was a loud commotion from behind the portrait.

“I’ll get Ginny,” Neville said quickly. “You keep Fred and George down here,” and he disappeared up the stairs.

Harry thought that sounded like a terrible plan, and he wondered what in the world was taking Ginny so long to return the broom in the first place.

The portrait door opened for third years, rushing in with treats and pink cheeks. They were talking loudly, and excitedly. The older students were a bit slower, but with no less energy. It seemed that even passing dementors on the way in couldn’t take out the joy of a trip to Hogsmeade.

Ron and Hermione dumped a handful of treats onto the chair near Harry.

“We got you everything we could think of,” Hermione said.

“You’ll never believe everything they have there!” said Ron. “They have butterbeers so warm--”

Harry tried to listen politely. He was curious, but he wasn’t quite ready to hear Ron and Hermione regale their thrilling adventures without him. And, he saw Fred and George step through the portrait, talking quietly to each other, heads bowed low. They glanced at Harry, briefly, then went back to whispering.

Harry was trying to think of a way to prevent them from going upstairs, but Ginny and Neville came down just then. Ginny had fresh scratches on her arms and was holding her cat tightly.

“Llywelyn didn’t want to leave,” Neville whispered to Harry as Ginny introduced Ron and Hermione to her new cat.

“Keep him away from Crookshanks,” Ron said, and Harry elbowed him.

“It’s Halloween. Shush about it, okay? Let’s just go down to the feast.”

Ron was sullen, but helped Harry and Neville take the treats from Hogsmeade up to their dorm. By the time they came back down, Ron was in better spirits, and they all went down to the Hogwarts Halloween feast together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and headcanons always appreciated.


	9. Grim Defeat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry's first Quidditch match of the year doesn't go the way he hoped it would.

The cold, wet weather didn’t let up over the next month. It rained constantly, and Harry wondered if it was the fault of the dementors or if it was just a bad year for weather.

On the day of the Quidditch match, Harry was woken up incredibly early by a very cold feeling on his neck. It was still dark out. The cold got sharper and he sat up straight. He found Peeves hovering over him, blowing cold air over his neck. With a grunt, Harry threw his sheets at the poltergeist and got up for a drink of water. Peeves disappeared through the tower wall, cackling softly.

Harry tried to go back to sleep, but even though it was only 4:30, he was too awake and too anxious about the oncoming match. He looked out the window, hoping for a clear day. He could see a few stars, but thunderclouds loomed on the horizon. Harry’s heart sank. They’d get blown around so easily in those winds. At least Draco’s advantage on his Nimbus 2001 would be marginal. A bit more speed or sharper turns wouldn’t help much against the elements. It was going to come down to skill, which Harry was sure he had plenty of, and a lot of luck. He wasn’t too sure about that one.

Since he couldn’t sleep, Harry decided to wait in the common room, where there was a warm fire, until it was time to head down to breakfast. When he reached the door he found Scabbers scratching at the heavy wood.

Harry picked the weasel to return him to Ron’s bed, but Scabbers bit his finger.

“Fine, what do I care if Crookshanks gets you?” Harry snapped in a low whisper. But he was careful to keep Scabbers in the dormitory before going down the stairs to the common room.

Harry sat down on the couch beside the warm fire. He thought he’d better enjoy the warmth while he had it. The wind was already picking up outside the tower. He got up to close the window and saw Crookshanks sitting at the foot of the stairs to the girls’ dormitory. Llywelyn sat across from him. They were staring at each other in a way that sort of reminded Harry of the way Malfoy looked at him across the table at mealtimes.

Hermione had said that cats were solitary creatures who didn’t share space well, but Harry never saw any other cats at Hogwarts fight the way Crookshanks fought with things.

Harry picked up Llywelyn and took him to the couch. “We don’t need Ginny and Ron teaming up on Hermione. She seems stressed enough as it is.”

Harry didn’t think the cat understood him anymore than Scabbers had understood him, but Llywelyn didn’t go back to stare down Crookshanks, at least. He sat next to Harry and curled his paws up under his chest. Harry vaguely remembered his mother saying that when a cat did that, it meant rain was coming. At least in this case, it was one divination that seemed true.

Ginny had cleaned Llywelyn up a lot since Halloween. He was no longer dirty and matted. She’d bathed him and brushed him and she gave him plenty of food. His fur was thick and sleek, and now that all the dirt was gone, you could see a clean white stripe down his chest, breaking up the solid black coat. He didn’t look as skinny anymore, either.

Harry scratched Llywelyn’s ears. The cat cooed at him, but didn’t move. Crookshanks still sat, steadfast, at the base of the stairs.

Hermione was the first one downstairs in the morning. She scooped up Crookshanks and sat down next to Harry.

“Nervous about the game?” she asked him.

Harry wondered how tired he looked. But he only shrugged his shoulders. “Weather’s going to be awful.”

“I saw.” She held Crookshanks in her lap and pet him while he purred. “Are your parents still coming?”

“I expect so. The match won’t be canceled, anyway.”

“Did Mr. Black say he was coming?”

“I haven’t written to Sirius, still. And he hasn’t written to me. But Professor Lupin--er, Uncle Remus--Which one do I use?”

Hermione laughed a little. “I expect you can just do it like you did with your mum. ‘Professor’ in class, and ‘Uncle Remus’ outside of class.”

“That seems strange somehow.” Harry laughed at himself for a moment. It felt good. He felt a little better about the match and about Sirius. “Well, Uncle Remus said that my parents will probably make Sirius come.”

“Do you want that?”

“I think I’ll be sad and happy either way.”

Hermione didn’t seem to think that was very strange.

The common room started to fill with people as morning arrived. At least, Harry assumed it was morning. The skies outside were as dark as they’d been since he’d awoken.

When Ron came downstairs, the three of them went down to breakfast together. Eventually the rest of the Quidditch team made it downstairs. Oliver Wood looked ready to be sick. He didn’t even touch his breakfast.

“You’ll need something to keep up your stamina,” Katie Bell said.

Oliver nibbled at a piece of toast.

“It’s just a bit of rain,” Alicia Spinnet said. “We’ve played in worse.”

Angelina Johnson stifled a laugh. Harry was inclined to agree with Angelina. They’d played in some pretty bad weather but this was absolutely miserable.

There was a shout from the end of the Hufflepuff table. “Professor Potter!” and a crowd of seventh years ran for the entrance to the Great Hall.

Harry looked up to see his parents and Sirius standing in the large double doors, soaking wet. Sirius shook his hair out and a few nearby girls yelped.

Harry left the Quidditch team to greet his parents.

His father gave him a large, wet hug. “Ready for your match?”

Harry glanced up at the ceiling of the castle, which was deceptively calm and gray. “Er--I guess so. Why were you all outside?”

James sighed and took off his glasses. He wiped the lenses with a corner of his shirt. “Had to come in through Hogsmeade. Didn’t want the school set up on the Floo Network like usual. Too many security risks and all. Honestly, these last few months have been a nightmare.” He put his glasses back on, but they were only smudged from the wet clothes. 

Harry noticed how tired his father looked, and he looked over at Lily, who seemed equally weary, though she smiled at her former students and politely inquired after their studies. Harry was pleased they all had positive things to say about Remus, even the Slytherins.

“Had to walk past the dementors and everything,” James said with a sigh. He looked back at Sirius, who was still shivering. Harry guessed it wasn’t the cold.

“Where’s Remus?” asked James.

“Probably sleeping in,” Harry said. “Because it’s… Saturday.”

James nodded and glanced out the windows at the storm. “Maybe it is better he sleeps through your match, rather than be out in this weather.”

“I wouldn’t miss Harry’s match because of a little rain.”

Uncle Remus appeared just behind Sirius. He looked tired, and a little thin, but he smiled at them. His eyes lingered on Sirius for a moment, then he reached into his cloak and handed Sirius a bar of chocolate.

“Lily gave me some already,” Sirius mumbled.

“Have some more,” Remus insisted, and pressed the chocolate into Sirius’s hand. He handed another bar to James, who accepted it eagerly.

“Shall we head down?” James asked.

The minute they stepped outside, they were soaked to the bone. Harry could barely see through the rain. He didn’t know how he was going to be able to see the Snitch with his drenched glasses, much less catch it.

Harry was just about to go out into the locker room when his dad caught his arm.

“Just a sec, Snitch.” He had to shout to be heard over the wind. He pulled Harry’s glasses off of his face. He muttered a spell over them, and when he gave them back, the water bounced right off the lenses. “Now you’ll be able to see.”

Harry grinned. It was the best thing he’d heard all morning. “Thanks!”

He ran into the locker room, careful not to let the wind knock him over. While he changed into his scarlet robes, he expected Oliver to give one of his usual rousing speeches. Instead, the weather seemed to have blown the thrill of Quidditch right out of him.

Fred and George clapped him on a shoulder each before they trooped out onto the Quidditch pitch.

Even with the spell on his glasses, Harry could barely see in the rain. The Slytherin team was a collection of emerald statues with hazy edges, and Harry saw why Wood was so out of sorts. The Slytherin captain, Marcus Flint, seemed to have stocked his team for size rather than skill. Normally, Harry would’ve scoffed at such a decision, but in this weather it would prove an advantage.

At Madam Hooch’s whistle they kicked off and it took all of Harry’s strength not to be blown straight into the stands. The wind only got worse the higher they went.

He was soaking wet and freezing before Gryffindor scored their first goal. He hovered over the match, but his usual strategy of hang back and observe wasn’t very useful in this weather. There was no way he’d be able to see the tiny Snitch unless it was five feet in front of him.

Last year, Malfoy’s strategy had been to stay on Harry’s heels and try to overtake him for the Snitch. This year, the strong gusts of wind kept them from staying very close to each other. It was hard enough to fly straight, much less fly after someone.

Harry noticed Malfoy flying low, so he also dropped, and nearly got taken out by a Bludger, before Fred whizzed past him and knocked it back at Slytherin.

Madam Hooch blew her whistle to call a foul on Slytherin, and Harry wondered how many fouls she was missing due to the low visibility.

Gryffindor scored and the game play resumed. Harry couldn’t hear the announcer over the wind, so he wasn’t sure what the score was. There was no way, at least, that Slytherin was more than a hundred and fifty points ahead. He needed that Snitch. He could tell Gryffindor was getting worn out from playing in the awful weather.

There was a crack of lightning overhead and in the sudden brightness, Harry saw the glinting of the Snitch. He zipped toward it, but as much as the wind was throwing him around, the Snitch didn’t stand a chance. A gust of wind whipped it to his left and Harry had to bank hard to go after it.

Malfoy came alongside him, so close their knees were bumping against each other. Harry tried to elbow Malfoy off of him, but Malfoy only shoved him back.

Thunder echoed through the stadium and another bolt of lightning streaked overhead. Harry wondered if they would cancel the match for the lightning, at least. Gryffindor couldn’t afford to forfeit to Slytherin. They needed this win.

He lowered his head against the wind and tried to outstrip Malfoy. But before he got very far, an eerie silence settled over the stadium. Harry realized he could no longer hear people cheering, the rain pelting, or even the wind roaring in his ears. It became deathly silent, though the storm didn’t cease.

And then the familiar cold gripped his chest. Harry panicked. His hands slipped off his broom and he heard someone screaming.

It was the scream he’d heard on the train, and the scream he’d heard in his nightmares. He was sure it was his mother.

_“Not Harry, not Harry!”_

_“Stand aside, now.”_

_“Not Harry! Kill me instead--”_

Harry felt like he was drowning. He knew he was falling but he felt like cold water had filled his lungs and he needed to get to his mother before--

There was another scream and an explosion and Harry felt everything inside him stop working.

\--- --- ---

He thought he recognized his mother sobbing. He heard his father say something softly. Harry couldn’t make out the words, but they somehow made him feel better, even though everything in his body still hurt.

“I thought he was dead for sure,” came Angelina’s voice.

“Lucky the ground was so soft,” Fred said.

“He didn’t even break his glasses,” said George.

“That was the scariest thing I’ve ever seen in my life,” said Katie.

Finally, Harry managed to open his eyes.

He was lying in the hospital wing, surrounded by his parents, the Gryffindor Quidditch team, and Ron and Hermione. Everyone was drenched in rain and mud.

His mother was the first one to his side. Her face looked as pale as he felt, and she hugged him as tightly as Harry had gripped his broom when fleeing giant spiders in the Forbidden Forest.

“How are you feeling?” asked Fred.

Harry realized everyone looked miserably pale. The memory of the dementors came flooding back to him, and Harry tried very hard not to be sick all over his mother.

He pulled himself out of her arms, but held her hand. “What happened?”

“You fell,” his father said, in a tight voice.

“We thought you died,” Alicia said.

Lily stifled another sob, and James put an arm around her shoulders.

“The match….” Harry was afraid to hear the answer. The Quidditch team looked at their feet. “Malfoy didn’t….”

“He did,” George said. “Just after you fell.”

Harry looked around at the team’s glum faces. He felt horrible. He’d never lost a Quidditch match before. “Where’s Oliver?” he asked suddenly, realizing their captain was absent.

“Still in the showers,” said Fred. “We think he’s trying to drown himself.”

Angelina elbowed him.

“He’s taking a shower,” Fred amended, “and trying to get warm again.”

Harry realized he still felt quite cold, even though they’d probably been indoors for a while.

“Everyone has to lose at some point,” James said, and gripped Harry’s shoulder. “You hadn’t lost a match yet. It’s just one. And your first loss is always the hardest.”

“It’ll be alright,” Katie said. “We only lost by a hundred points. We can make it up.”

“Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff are really good this year,” Fred said. “If they can beat Slytherin by two hundred points--”

“Then we’ll have to beat them by another two hundred.” said George.

“But if Ravenclaw flattens Hufflepuff--”

Madam Pomfrey appeared and shooed the muddy Quidditch team out of her infirmary. At Harry’s request, she let Ron and Hermione stay behind.

Harry realized suddenly Sirius and Remus weren’t there. “Where’re Sirius and Uncle Remus?”

“Professor Lupin caught a fever in the rain,” Hermione said quietly. “Madam Pomfrey put him in her office. Mr. Black is with him.”

Harry didn’t know he could feel any worse than he already did, but knowing he was the reason Remus was feeling worse than he usually did before a full moon did it.

“He wouldn’t have missed you play for anything,” Lily said, as if she could read his mind. “And it’s a good thing he was there. We had a couple strong patronuses to keep some of the worst of the dementors at bay.”

“Dumbledore was furious they’d come onto the grounds,” Hermione said.

“They had no right to be there,” James agreed.

“It’s unthinkable they’re even allowed this close to the school,” Lily said sharply. “I don’t know what the Ministry is thinking, interfering with your education and your safety and--”

James squeezed her hand. “The Ministry is keeping them safe by keeping Regulus Black out of the castle.”

Harry wanted to talk about anything other than Regulus Black and dementors. He glanced around the room and realized his broom wasn’t nearby, even though he was still in his muddy Quidditch robes.

“Did someone get my Nimbus?”

His father looked like he was going to be sick.

“When you fell, it got blown away,” Ron said.

“Professor Flitwick brought it in just a bit before you woke up,” Lily said.

Harry didn’t like the way everyone was looking at him, like he was about to be told he was dying of dragon pox. “What happened to it?”

“It hit the Whomping Willow,” said Hermione.

“And you know the Whomping Willow,” said Ron. “It doesn’t like to be hit.”

Hermione picked a bag up off the floor and handed it to him. Inside were broken twigs and splintered bits of wood--all that was left of his Nimbus 2000.

Now Harry really didn’t think he could feel any worse.

“We’ll get you a new one,” James said quickly.

“But this one was from Sirius.” His voice cracked as he said it, and he realized just how much his fight with Sirius was bothering him.

Lily quickly hugged him. “It’ll be alright.”

But Harry honestly didn’t see how it could be.

Ron and Hermione were sent off to dinner; his parents were allowed to stay a little later. Sirius and Remus emerged from Madam Pomfrey’s office so they could all have dinner together. Harry asked how Remus was doing, and Remus promised that he was fine.

Sirius was unusually quiet. Harry had no way of knowing if it was because of the dementors or because he was still upset with Harry over Regulus Black.

Madam Pomfrey shared a handful of particularly funny stories about Remus’s many stays in the infirmary. Most of them involved Sirius doing something ridiculous. The laughter seemed to be as good a medicine as chocolate. Even though Harry still felt miserable about losing the match, losing his broom, making Remus sick, and fighting with Sirius, he didn’t feel so cold.

Snape came by to deliver Remus’s potion. James and Sirius eyed it suspiciously, but said nothing. Lily smiled politely and asked how he was. She even invited him to stay, but he declined. Sirius looked relieved.

After dinner, Ron and Hermione came back to check on him, this time with Ginny in tow. Madam Pomfrey reluctantly let them in, on the promise not to over-exert her patients, and gave everyone cups of hot cocoa.

Ginny was carrying her new cat and an envelope, one of which she thrust at Harry shyly.

Harry took the card and opened it. It sang shrilly when he, so he closed it suddenly and politely thanked her. Lily told her it was lovely, and Harry wasn’t sure if Ginny blushed more because of his compliment or his mum’s.

When Madam Pomfrey decided it was time for her patients to get some rest, Lily kissed Harry’s forehead. Hermione, Ron, and Ginny said quiet goodbyes and returned to Gryffindor tower. James ruffled his hair and repeated that everything would be alright. Sirius mumbled a goodbye and an apology.

It wasn’t much, but it was something. Harry managed to say something like, “It’s okay,” before Sirius left with his parents.

He wondered if they would stay in Hogsmeade, or if his parents had Ministry business to attend to. He wondered if they would be there for Remus on Monday, or if only Sirius would stay behind. Harry just hoped that Remus wouldn’t be alone.

\--- --- ---

Madam Pomfrey finally let Harry go Sunday night, just in time for him to finish up his homework. Harry checked with Remus three times to be sure he didn’t need anything brought back to him before going back to the Gryffindor common room.

Class on Monday went as usual, except Harry worried about Defense Against the Dark Arts. It was the day before the full moon, and if Madam Pomfrey hadn’t let Remus out of the infirmary yet, she certainly wouldn’t for an afternoon class. He thought about not going, and asking Ron and Hermione to ditch with him, but he also thought Remus wouldn’t be very proud of him for that.

When the Gryffindor class trooped into Defense Against the Dark Arts, Harry’s worst fears were confirmed. Snape stood at the front of the classroom. A few of the students whispered to each other in surprise, but Harry took his seat rather glumly.

“It seems Professor Lupin has not left any record of the topics you have covered so far.”

Hermione’s hand shot into the air, but Snape ignored it and continued to leaf lazily through the papers on the desk.

“It seems a rather terrible--”

“Please, sir,” Hermione interrupted. “We’ve done boggarts, Red Caps, kappas, and grindylows.”

“Quiet,” Snape snapped. “I was merely commenting on Professor Lupin’s lack of organization.”

Harry bit back a sharp word, but Dean Thomas, thankfully, did not. “He’s the best Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher we’ve ever had.”

The rest of the class murmured in agreement. Snape stared down at them.

“Lupin is hardly overtaxing you. I would expect first years to be able to deal with Red Caps and grindylows. Today we will discuss werewolves.”

Harry might’ve jumped out of his seat if Hermione hadn’t spoken. “But sir, we’re not supposed to do werewolves yet, we’re due to start hinkypunks--”

“Miss Granger, I was under the impression that I am teaching this lesson, not you. And I am telling you all to turn to page 394. All of you. Now.”

Harry’s hands were shaking as he turned to the back of their textbook. He thought about walking out of class, but he knew it would only upset Remus. Instead he glared sullenly at Snape.

“Which of you can tell me how we distinguish between the werewolf and the true wolf?” Snape asked the class.

No one had an answer, except Hermione, who’s hand shot into the air, as always.

“Anyone?” Snape asked, completely ignoring Hermione. “Are you telling me that Professor Lupin hasn’t even taught you the basic distinction between--”

“We told you,” Pavarti interrupted, “we haven’t got as far as werewolves yet. We’re still on--”

“Silence,” Snape snarled at them. “Well, I never thought I’d meet a third year class who wouldn’t even recognize a werewolf when they saw one.”

Harry lazily raised his hand. He didn’t know if Snape would ignore him like he did Hermione, or give him the chance to answer, but he didn’t care either way. He was intent only on making Snape embarrassed in front of the class, rather than letting him continue to embarrass Remus this way.

Snape noticed Harry’s hand, and his upper lip twitched. Harry wasn’t sure if it was a sneer or disgust.

“Mr. Potter, you know the difference between a true wolf and a werewolf?” He sounded like he didn’t believe Harry, but his eyes said he was challenging Harry.

Harry took the bait. “Werewolves have shorter snouts and tufted tails. Werewolves also have longer hind legs, and their eyes are different.”

“It sounds like, Mr. Potter, you are quite familiar with a werewolf.”

“Contrary to what you may think of me, Professor, I have been known to open a text book.”

Ron, Neville, Dean, and Seamus were all staring at him with their jaws practically on the floor. Hermione was looking at him like he’d grown a second head. Lavender Brown stifled a giggle.

“Five points for your cheek,” Snape snarled. “All of you are to take notes on the chapter. You are to each write an essay, to be handed in to me, on the ways you recognize and kill werewolves. I want two rolls of parchment on the subject. I don’t want to hear another word out of you for the rest of class.”

Harry couldn’t care less about the points. Even as the class groaned about the essay, he felt quite smug and proceeded to write the most thorough answer to Snape’s assignment he could imagine, complete with a lot of snide remarks about the hypocrisy of werewolf research and a handful of references to werewolf legislation. He wanted something that would flatter Remus and infuriate Snape. Two rolls of parchment, for the first time in his academic life, wouldn’t be nearly enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and headcanons always appreciated. <3


	10. The Marauder's Map

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry gets an early gift from Fred and George.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think there are a lot of things in this chapter you've all been waiting for, so I hope you guys like it.

Even though they didn’t have Defense Against the Dark Arts until Thursday, Harry stopped by Remus’s office before breakfast on Tuesday.

Remus was just pulling his cloak on as he opened the door. His face was thin, but he smiled brightly at Harry. “You’re up quite early. How are you feeling?”

Harry was a little startled by the question, not because he’d forgotten he’d been in the hospital, but because he’d meant to ask it himself. “I’m fine. How are you feeling?”

Remus stepped out of his office to walk down to breakfast with Harry. “I’m doing quite well. You don’t need to check on me so frequently.”

“Dad says someone has to, and Mum says you don’t take care of the things you should.”

Remus laughed a little as they turned a corner. “I suppose there may be some truth to that. But Madam Pomfrey took excellent care of me, and I’m quite fit for teaching today.”

Harry wanted to ask if his parents had stayed in Hogsmeade to help take care of Remus. He wanted to tell Remus about how Snape had run class yesterday, but he knew the “w” word was forbidden in both public and private conversation. He tried to think of a way to bring it up creatively. His parents were so much better at this.

“Professor Lupin,” a student called as they rounded another corner. “Good to see you’re all better.” Harry recognized her as one of the Gryffindor prefects, a sixth year.

“Ah, Anne, how are you?” Remus asked.

“Well, Professor. Tell me you have no intentions of taking ill again. Class without you was absolutely miserable.”

Remus laughed, and Anne fell in step with them as they continued to the Entrance Hall. “Professor Snape is very skilled in and knowledgeable of the Dark Arts. I’m sure it couldn’t have been--”

“He had us silent dueling! I tried to tell him we’d barely covered curses, and even Marcus said we were still practicing silent spell casting, but he wouldn’t listen to us. He spent half the time criticizing our form, and half the time criticizing your teaching methods.”

Harry noticed the corner of Remus’s jaw tighten, but his smile remained unchanged. “Professor Snape often has high expectations. I apologize class wasn’t as pleasant as you had anticipated.”

“And he assigned us an essay--four rolls on battling dark creatures. As if we’re training to be Hit Wizards just because it’s a N.E.W.T. class!”

“We can talk about it all in class,” Remus said tactfully. “I’m sure Professor Snape is only looking out for your education.”

Harry did not agree, and opened his mouth to say so, but Remus gave him a warning look. Harry shut his mouth quickly as they stepped into the Great Hall for breakfast. Ron and Hermione were already waiting for him, so he slipped onto the bench between them.

“You were gone when we went downstairs,” Ron said. “Thought you’d already be here.”

“Stopped to talk to Uncle Remus.” Harry reached for a slice of toast. “Wanted to tell him about the essay Snape gave us, but Anne Thelborne beat me to it.” It was a reasonably true excuse. “Apparently Snape was just as harsh on the N.E.W.T. class as he was on us.”

Hermione, however, eyed Harry suspiciously over her Arithmancy textbook. Harry almost asked her what was wrong with his face, but there was a sharp gasp from the Slytherin side of the hall, then a roar of laughter.

Malfoy was re-enacting Harry’s dramatic fall by climbing onto the bench and swooning.

“I hope he hits his head on a candle,” Harry muttered and spread his jam with a little more anger than necessary.

“Ravenclaw will murder Slytherin in February,” Ron assured him. “Fred and George were talking about their new Seeker. She’s supposed to be really good.”

Harry thought he should be cheered by that, but it only meant that he would have to double his efforts to beat her.

“You really are feeling alright, aren’t you Harry?” Hermione asked, and set aside her book. She exchanged a conspiratorial glance with Ron.

“I’m fine,” he insisted. “And I’ll be better once we get Potions over and done with.”

\--- --- ---

On Thursday, Remus informed them that they did not have to do the essay. The class sighed in relief--about half of them hadn’t done it at all, and about half had done it terribly. Hermione was the only one who looked disappointed, but Remus let her hand it in for extra credit. After the bell, when Harry tried to turn his two rolls of parchment, Remus raised an eyebrow at him.

“Harry,” Remus said gently, “You really don’t need to--”

“Please read it,” Harry insisted. “Even though I knew most of it already, from reading Dad’s books, I worked really hard on it. It’s really rude and everything.”

Remus laughed, and that alone was enough to reward Harry’s efforts. “I will hang onto it for a rainy day,” Remus said, and tucked it into his briefcase. “And you’re sure that you’re alright?”

Harry stiffened. “Fine. Why?”

“Neville and Dean came to me yesterday. They said you’re having nightmares.”

Harry tightened his grip on his bookbag. “It’s alright. I had them first year, too.” This looked like it hurt Remus somehow, and Harry instantly regretted it. “Really. It’s okay. I’ve talked to Mum about them before. It’s been off and on since I saw the… the unicorn.” Harry suddenly felt cold, as if a dementor had floated its way into the classroom.

Remus put a hand on Harry’s shoulder and squeezed gently. “If you need to talk about them….”

Harry glanced over his shoulder. He knew Lupin had first years coming in and Harry had to get to History of Magic. “Could I… come by after Charms tonight? ”

“Of course, Harry. I suppose you’d better not be late, or I’ll have to give you a detention.” His eyes twinkled. “Then you’d be forced to spend your evening with me.”

Harry smiled as he left. He found Ron and Neville waiting for him.

“You didn’t have to--” he started.

“It’s Binns,” Ron snorted. “Would he even noticed if we didn’t show?”

“I’d still like to be on time,” Neville said meekly, and increased his pace. “Hermione’s already gone on ahead.”

“I told her to wait,” Ron said. “I think being late once or twice ought to be good for her, the way she’s carrying on.”

Harry was inclined to agree.

\--- --- ---

Professor Flitwick let them out early as a reward for excellent behavior, so Harry quickly made his way back to Remus’s office. The third year Slytherins were just finishing up their lesson on hinkypunks. He was just in time to hear, “Yes, very good Draco. That would be an effective counter spell,” before the bell rang.

There was the sound of students’ chairs scraping the floor and Remus calling loudly over the noise, “If you wish to turn in your werewolf essay for extra credit, leave it on my desk, but otherwise you are excused from the assignment.”

Harry hung back as the Slytherin students filed out of class towards the Great Hall for dinner. He had no desire to get into it with Malfoy today. As soon as the students were gone, Harry walked into the classroom. 

“You got here quickly,” Remus said.

“Flitwick let us go early.”

“Professor Flitwick, Harry.”

“Right.” Harry set his bag down on an empty desk and pulled a chair up beside Remus. He eyed the small pile of parchment on the end of Remus’s desk. “Are you really going to read those?”

“I don’t want any hard work to go to waste,” Remus said, and Harry could not detect a trace of fear or apprehension in his voice about having to read essays about identifying and killing werewolves. But he was quick to change the subject. “Did you want to tell me about your nightmare?”

Harry ran a hand through his hair, absentmindedly rubbing his scar. It hadn’t hurt recently. Not since he’d tried to cast a Shield Charm and passed out from the strain. Perhaps he was as weak as Malfoy said after all.

“It’s… I told Mum, but it’s about the night Voldemort attacked the house. At least, that’s what she said it was. You weren’t there, were you?”

But Harry didn’t need to ask. He knew the story. Hagrid and Sirius had dug him and his parents out of the rubble, gotten them in Dumbledore’s safe care, and Remus had arrived a few days later, after most of the dust of the war had settled, and Peter Pettigrew had been awarded Order of Merlin, First Class, posthumously. 

“This time, though,” Harry continued, “I heard her begging him not to hurt me. I--I haven’t been able to write home since the accident,” he confessed. “I don’t know what to say. She was going to die in my place and I--” But Harry didn’t know how to explain his confusion. He was proud, sad, and terrified all at once and he didn’t know what words there were to explain himself.

Remus didn’t seem to need words to understand. “I think you have a better understanding of why your parents don’t like to talk about that night, now.”

Harry nodded.

“But your mother has always been this way. Your parents have always loved and supported you. That hasn’t always been an easy thing to do, but they did it because they love you.”

“They could have died and I--” Harry didn’t know what would have happened to him. Would he, too, have died because of Voldemort? Or would he have lived with Sirius or Remus? Who would he be if he hadn’t played Quidditch with his father or had his mother to help him with Potions?

“Why do they affect me like this?” Harry said bleakly, and took his glasses off to clean them, unconsciously mirroring his father’s habit. “Am I just….”

“You’re not weak,” Remus said quickly. “Quite the opposite, I’m sure. Sirius is actually far more similar to you, you know, especially about dementors. The thing is, they’re not Beings, and they’re not Beasts. They’re what we call Non-Beings, because they feed off of your emotions. They suck out every happy memory you have, until you’re left with only the bad. It can reduce you to something soulless, like a dementor itself. And the thing about you, and about Sirius, is that you have very bad memories, and very powerful fears. Anyone would have fallen off their broom at such a memory as the one you had. I know it took all your mother’s strength to cast a patronus at that match. It isn’t an easy thing to be brave in the face of your fears, but you have always been very brave, and that makes you incredibly strong.”

As always, Remus had the words Harry needed to hear. Not necessarily the ones he wanted, but the ones he needed. Neither dumbed down because he was young, or intricate to confuse him.

“If dementors are all that bad… Azkaban must be awful.”

“Most prisoners go mad within weeks,” Remus agreed.

“And they can’t cast a patronus, can they?”

“No. Not without their wands.”

“Then how did Regulus Black manage to escape? He was there for twelve years.”

Remus sighed heavily. “That is the question everyone’s been asking. I’m afraid I don’t have any more answers than you do.”

Harry had been thinking for a very long time about how Regulus Black might’ve managed to escape. He’d been thinking for a very long time about whether or not Regulus Black deserved Azkaban. He didn’t have any more answers, only questions he wanted to ask and the only person with answers would be Regulus Black.

“Could you teach me to cast a patronus?” asked Harry. “So if it ever happens again, I won’t--”

“It won’t happen again,” Remus said firmly. “Dumbledore would never allow it. And, besides, I think your mother might charge right into Fudge’s office and demand the dementors be removed from the grounds the instant they approached a student. She’s practically worked her way into the Board of Governors, you know.”

Harry did not know this, and the news took him a little by surprise. Then he imagined his mother in the same room as Lucius Malfoy, debating Hogwarts’ curriculum and staffing. It was a rather pleasant picture.

“Even if it doesn’t happen again, shouldn’t I ought to know?”

“It’s a N.E.W.T. level spell, Harry. You’re a talented wizard, but I’m not sure you’ve mastered the preliminary skills necessary for casting a patronus. It’s usually taught after wordless spell-casting because of how much focus it requires. You’ll be able to cast it wonderfully someday, I’m sure, but the basics--”

“Please, Uncle Remus, can’t we try?”

Remus looked him over for a very long moment. Harry held his breath and gazed at Remus imploringly. He had to work very hard to refrain from begging.

Finally, Remus sighed, and shook his head. “You and your father--” He ran a hand through his hair. “I have a lot of work to get through before the holidays, but afterwards, yes, we can give it a try.”

\--- --- ---

Ravenclaw, as expected, absolutely flattened Hufflepuff in the next Quidditch game, and as a result, Malfoy’s bravado began to wane. Ron’s prediction that Ravenclaw’s new Seeker was a threat proved true. Harry couldn’t wait until February to watch Ravenclaw flatten Slytherin. It would be cathartic.

But before that, the holidays were coming. Harry had been unable to be home for Christmas last year, since his mother had been teaching at Hogwarts, so he was doubly excited to go home this year. He couldn’t wait to see his house, decorated in holly and red and gold ribbon like it had been his first year. He told Ron and Hermione they were welcome to join in, and their families, too, of course.

The Saturday before the end of term was another trip to Hogsmeade. Hermione was excited to do some Christmas shopping for her parents. Harry promised if she saw anything Sirius or Remus might like, he would gladly pay her back, but he was to be interred at the castle for a second time. 

Still, when that Saturday arrived, he got up to see them off.

Harry leaned against the Entrance Hall doors and watched them go. He was a little glad he didn’t have to walk past the dementors, but like last time, he was left wondering what to do with himself. He thought about walking to Remus’s office, but he thought he’d only be underfoot. Remus had exams to prepare before the holidays.

As he started back towards the common room, he was pulled into a tiny alcove under a stairwell. Harry groped for his wand in his robes, but then saw it was just Fred and George.

His heart was still hammering as he said, “What was that for? Why aren’t you two off at Hogsmeade?”

“We have something for you,” Fred said imperiously.

“Think of it as early holiday cheer,” George said.

Fred snorted. “Or perhaps an early inheritance, but you’ll have to confirm our suspicions.”

Harry had no idea what that meant, but his curiosity was piqued as he followed Fred and George into an unused classroom.

Fred pulled a square of parchment out of his cloak and laid it on one of the desks. It was a very old piece of parchment, worn around the edges, but Harry could see no merit in it. He only stared at it, face as blank as the parchment.

“What’s it supposed to be?”

“The secret of our success,” George said reverently.

“We’re loathe to part with it, but we’ve agreed your need’s greater than ours at present.”

“And we suspect it’s rightfully yours anyhow,” George added.

Harry still didn’t understand. “What do I need with a bit of old parchment?”

Fred gasped, like he’d insulted Merlin or Godric Gryffindor. “Old parchment?” he gagged and mimed swooning. 

“When we were in our first year,” George explained, “young, carefree, and innocent--” Harry snorted. “--well, more innocent than we are now--we got into a spot of a bother with Filch.”

“We let off a Dungbomb in the corridor and it upset him for some reason--”

“So he hauled us off to his office and started threatening us with the usual--”

“--detention--”

“--disembowelment--”

“--and we couldn’t help noticing a drawer in one of his filing cabinets marked ‘Confiscated and Highly Dangerous.’”

“I dropped a Dungbomb to make a diversion, and Fred opened the drawer and grabbed this.” George patted the parchment again. “We don’t reckon Filch ever found out how to work it. He probably suspected what it was, though, or he wouldn’t have confiscated it.”

Harry raised an eyebrow at him. The story was grand and all, but he hadn’t gotten any answers about why the parchment was so important.

“This little beauty’s taught us more than all the teachers in this school,” Fred sighed.

“Get to it already,” Harry said. “How does it work?”

George smiled and touched the tip of his wand to the parchment. “I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.”

Ink began to crawl across the parchment. Harry was reminded of the diary, but instead of absorbing ink dripped into it, the parchment spit ink back out to form letters. He was suspicious for a moment, but then the words became clear--

_Messrs. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs_  
Purveyors of Aids to Magical Mischief-Makers  
are proud to present  
The Marauder’s Map 

Harry burst into laughter. 

Fred jumped up and down gleefully. “We were right, George! It is Professor Lupin and your Dad and Mum and Sirius, isn’t it?”

Harry laughed harder. “No, not my Mum, but yes to the others.” Harry was having trouble controlling his laughter. “How’d you figure it out?”

“The map? Took us a near month figuring out the right words,” George sighed.

“But the mapmakers were very helpful, once they knew we were intent on making trouble,” Fred added.

“I meant about my dad,” Harry said.

“Oh. When we stayed with you at Christmas. And again when they visited for Quidditch. Sirius called Mr. Lupin, ‘Moony.’ We figured your dad and mum were in on it too.”

Harry looked at the parchment, which now detailed the floor plan of Hogwarts, and where everyone was located. Little dots moved about in common rooms and teachers pacing their offices. Even Peeves was visible, bouncing around the trophy room.

“So why are you giving it to me? You could get into loads of mischief with it,” Harry said.

“This,” and Fred pointed to a secret passage that lead out of the castle and up to Hogsmeade. “There are several passages, but this one’s the only working one right now. Filch knows about the others, except this one that’s caved in, and the other one’s guarded by the Whomping Willow. But we’ve used this one loads of times. It’s certainly safe.”

George sighed and patted the map. “We owe them so much.”

“We’ll have to write them thank you letters,” Fred laughed. “Just be sure, Harry, that you wipe the map when you’re done, or anyone will be able to read it.”

George pressed his wand into the paper. “Mischief Managed.”

And the ink faded from the paper. It was once again just a bit of old parchment that Fred folded up and handed to Harry, as if handing the robes of St. Peter himself.

“See you in Honeydukes,” George winked and went off with Fred towards the Entrance Hall. Harry could hear them apologizing to Filch for oversleeping and assuring him their names were on the list. Their voices eventually faded as they left the castle.

\--- --- ---

Harry emerged in Honeydukes and slipped through the crowd. He found Ron and Hermione looking at candies to buy for him, which he appreciated. When he came up behind them, Hermione nearly jumped out of her skin and Ron dropped a jar of Cockroach Clusters. Harry managed to catch it before it hit the ground.

“What are you doing here?” Hermione hissed.

They walked outside and Harry told them quietly about the Marauder’s Map. Hermione insisted he turn it in. Harry found the idea absurd. He had so many questions to ask his dad and Sirius about the map. This, if anything, seemed like an excellent way to repair his and Sirius’s relationship. Ron, once he got over his offense that Fred and George never shared the map with him, sided with Harry.

“What if Regulus Black got a hold of the map? What if he knows about the tunnels on it?” Hermione pressed.

“Regulus Black doesn’t know how to use the map.” Harry imagined if Sirius was involved with the design, the map would have a few choice words for Regulus Black. “And, anyway, Uncle Remus knows all the passages on the map, so it isn’t a problem.”

“Then Professor Lupin might catch you,” Hermione pointed out.

“Then I’ll hand the map in,” Harry shrugged. He doubted Remus would be terribly upset. Sure, he was risking his safety, but this was Hogsmeade. Regulus Black couldn’t turn up in the middle of the day, in the middle of holiday crowds, without getting caught. It couldn’t be any less safe than Hogwarts.

With most of Hermione’s fears allayed, Ron began to show Harry around Hogsmeade. Hermione, too, was unable to withhold all she knew about the small magical town, and began telling Harry excitedly about the history of each building they passed.

They ended up in the Three Broomsticks. Ron--face red from the cold or from a crush, Harry wasn’t sure--bought three butterbeers from Madam Rosmerta for him, Harry, and Hermione. They sat near the fireplace as they drank the warm, frothy drinks. Harry had never felt better. The thrill of sneaking out and being with friends warmed him as much as any butterbeer.

Then the door to the Three Broomsticks opened and Harry nearly choked on his butterbeer. Professor McGonagall and Flitwick walked in, followed by Hagrid and Cornelius Fudge.

Ron and Hermione shoved Harry under the table and Hermione used her wand to move the Christmas tree to hide their table from their professors. Harry tried to think of an escape route, but Professor McGonagall had a perfect view of the door. He’d never make it past her sharp eyes.

“Minister,” Madam Rosmerta said in a high, musical voice that made Harry see why Ron liked her, “what brings you down to this neck of the woods?”

Cornelius Fudge’s voice was low and weary. “What else but Regulus Black? You heard he was sighted in town just before Halloween.”

Harry wished he could look up at Ron and Hermione, because he certainly hadn’t heard that.

Rosmerta clicked her tongue and her sparkly blue heels settled near a chair at the teachers’ table. “I had heard a rumor. Unpleasant to hear it confirmed. These dementors are bad for business, you know, Minister. Scare my customers right off, they do.”

“They are… an unpleasant necessity. They’re unhappy about it too. Dumbledore won’t let them in the grounds of the castle--”

“And with good reason,” Professor McGonagall snapped. “The idea of students being subjected to that--”

“All the same, they’re protecting us from something far worse. We all know what Black is capable of.”

Harry’s ears pricked and he dared to inch closer. He didn’t want to miss a word of this.

Madam Rosmerta sighed thoughtfully. “I remember Regulus Black. He was a rather sweet boy, from what I recall. Very polite. Always tipped well. But the friends he had--It’s a right shame. A boy like that, losing such a promising future. I will always wonder if Crouch did the right thing with those two.”

The Minister grunted. “He certainly suffered for his decision. Shunted off to International Relations. Such a fall….”

“I think losing his son and his wife a far worse way to suffer for his decision,” said McGonagall. Her voice was slightly accusing, and the Minister cleared his throat. Harry imagined her turning her strict stare onto him. Good. The Minister needed more people to look at him that way, Harry thought.

“Regulus was such a wonderful student in class,” Flitwick said suddenly, in his squeaky voice. “But outside of class--”

“I think Regulus’s relationship with his brother was largely to blame,” Professor McGonagall.

Harry inched closer.

“Had to throw the Black boys out once for brawling,” Madam Rosmerta laughed. “Never saw two brothers look more alike ‘til the Weasley boys came along. Shame they didn’t get on even half as well as those boys. I’d like to think they might’ve been a good influence on each other.”

“I’m afraid they quite influenced each other in opposite directions,” said McGonagall. “I think they made their choices to spite each other, if anything else.”

“Regulus Black is responsible for ‘is own actions,” Hagrid said. “”E made ‘is choices. Can’t give ‘im a pass because he wanted ter be differen’ from his brother.”

“No one is saying that,” McGonagall said. “What Regulus Black did is unforgivable.”

“The public doesn’t even know the half of it,” Fudge said, rather loudly, Harry thought, for a secret the public didn’t know.

Harry dared to move just a little closer.

“More than torturing the poor Longbottoms?” Rosmerta said in shock. “Here, Minister, let me refill your rum.”

The sparkly heels clicked away, and Harry feared he would never hear the story. But it turned out Madam Rosmerta had as much interest in the gossip as he did, for as soon as the Minister had a fresh mug of red currant rum, she sat back down and pressed him to tell her everything.

“Everyone knows Regulus Black was missing for two years before his reappearance at the Longbottom’s home,” the Minister said.

“Hard to miss! The Daily Prophet's gossip columns did little other than report on the missing heir to the Black fortune for weeks after his father died.”

“Yes, well,” the Minister began gravely, “apparently he was very active during those two years, doing dark secret tasks for You-Know-Who. He was even responsible for what happened to the Bones family.”

Harry shrank back under the table, remembering a conversation he and Susan Bones had eavesdropped on, two years ago, before either of them had ever attended Hogwarts, about how nearly her entire family had been killed by supporters of Voldemort.

“That’s just to name one. He spent those two years selling out Muggle-born families to his master, and doing many terrible things for You-Know-Who,” the Minister sighed heavily. “Things so dark he couldn’t even let his own mother know he was alive.”

Hermione nudged Harry with her foot and he knew she was thinking of that last letter, the one where Regulus begged Narcissa, who Harry now understood to be Sirius’s cousin and Draco’s mother, to disappear. He wondered if Regulus’s disappearance had been part of a larger scheme, as the Minister suggested. But one line stuck in Harry’s mind-- _“I will do everything I can to bring him down and protect the people and things that I love.”_

It was the one part Harry still couldn’t make sense of. He wondered if Sirius fell into the end category of “people I love.” Narcissa surely did, or he wouldn’t have sent her a letter.

But the letter had closed with an apology to Sirius. For things Regulus had done, or for things Regulus was going to do?

“Edgar Bones was a wonderful student,” Flitwick said, and blew his nose.

“He came in here with his little ones once or twice,” Rosmerta said. “They were adorable. Spitting images of his mother, in miniature form.”

“Edgar’s mother was a classmate of mine,” McGonagall said quietly. “She was a very talented witch, and fought quite bravely against anyone who criticized her Muggle parents.” There was a sad note in her voice Harry wasn’t sure he’d ever heard from McGonagall before.

“I can’t believe little Regulus, who would have stolen the moon for his mother, would do anything to hurt a family like that,” Rosmerta said.

“The war was a dark time,” said Hagrid. “Lots o’ wizards did things they didn’ think they’d ever do before. I wouldn’ ta thought it of Regulus either, but if you saw ‘im duel his brother, you’da seen it.”

McGonagall hummed, and Harry wasn’t sure if it was in agreement or disappointment--possibly both.

“Drove him mad, did it?” Rosmerta asked.

“I wish I could say those were the actions of a madman,” the Minister said, “but unfortunately, Regulus Black seems to have become a cruel and calculated man after leaving Hogwarts. I happened to see him on my routine check of Azkaban this last time. No one had seen him in almost twelve years, mind. Not since his brother took care of the legal paperwork to make sure the Black family possessions went to him. They weren’t going to do Regulus Black much good in Azkaban, of course. I expected him to be as withered as the rest of the prisoners but it seemed that somehow, twelve years of dementors had done nothing. He was despondent, but clear-headed. He asked me for the paper, carefully enunciating and everything, as if his mother were checking his speech at a dinner party. Said he missed reading about new weddings.”

“But what could he possibly have broken out to do?” Rosmerta blurted. “He can’t possibly rejoin You-Know-Who.”

“That, or continue what his master began. It seems he’s starting with--”

Professor McGonagall cleared her throat. “Minister, if you’re going to make dinner with the Headmaster, we ought to get going.”

“Oh, yes.” The party stood, chairs scraping away. Harry scrambled backwards, against Hermione and Ron’s legs.

“Careful, Minister,” Rosmerta laughed. “Lean on Hagrid if you can’t stand straight.”

“I’m perfectly fine,” the Minister grunted. “Though perhaps the cold blizzard will do some good.”

The door jingled as the adults left, and Madam Rosmerta’s sparkly blue heels clicked their way back behind the counter of her shop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and headcanons always appreciated <3


	11. The Firebolt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry goes home for the holidays.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this one is short. I'm afraid I've rather spoiled you with my lengthier chapters.... there just wasn't nearly as much to cover this time around. Many thanks to my beta, ageofzero, whom I do not thank nearly as often as I should.

Sunday morning was as chaotic as September first had been. Harry had packed his things for the holiday in a daze, still mulling over everything he’d learned about Regulus Black. The other boys in the dormitory, however, were packing in a rush and chatting excitedly about their plans for the holiday.

“We’ll miss breakfast if we don’t leave soon,” Neville said as he closed his trunk.

Dean and Seamus followed him out quickly, with Dean insisting that Seamus should visit and play a game of football with the kids in his town. Seamus didn’t seem to think much of a game played on the ground.

“Are you coming, Ron?” Harry asked, since Ron was busy tearing apart his bed.

“I can’t find Scabbers anywhere,” Ron said.

Harry remembered Scabbers trying to make a break for it the day of his Quidditch match. He wondered if Scabbers had finally made it out.

“I’m sure he’ll turn up,” Harry said.

“We’re going to be gone for two weeks,” Ron said. “Anything could happen to him!”

“Maybe he wants to explore the castle while all the students are gone,” Harry tried to joke, but Ron didn’t laugh.

Once on the train, Ron stared sullenly at Crookshanks, but said nothing.

“I’m sure Scabbers is fine, Ron,” Hermione said. “Weasels are very resourceful creatures.”

“I’ve lost Trevor loads of times,” Neville said. “He always turns up.”

None of these words seemed to cheer Ron up at all. Even when Ginny appeared, carrying her cat, Ron very rudely told her to leave them alone. Ginny sniffed indignantly and disappeared.

“You should be nicer to her,” Neville said.

“She can go sit with Fred and George,” Ron mumbled. “It’s crowded in here.”

Harry didn’t know what to say to cheer Ron up. Scabbers was, in all likelihood, perfectly fine at Hogwarts. Anything that challenged Crookshanks to a fight could handle itself, he was sure. As much as Ron complained about his temperamental pet, Harry thought it quite obvious that Ron cared for Scabbers.

“Harry,” Hermione started slowly, “we didn’t talk about what we learned yesterday.”

Harry was grateful for the change in topic, but he wished Hermione had picked literally anything else. He would’ve rather rehashed his loss to Malfoy than talk about Regulus Black right now. His eyes flicked to Neville, who had no idea what they were talking about. Harry wasn’t sure he wanted to tell him.

“What’s there to talk about?” he mumbled, picking at a loose thread on the seat.

“We agree that Regulus Black’s last letter had to be a lie, didn’t it?”

Harry wasn’t ready to believe it. He’d spent so long thinking about that letter, so long being angry at Sirius for not listening to him, that he couldn’t just change his mind.

“You still think Regulus Black might be innocent?” Neville said, and stared at Harry with wide eyes. “How?”

Harry thought of the part of the letter where Regulus Black said he was protecting the people he loved. Harry thought of his nightmares of his mother standing between him and Voldemort. He couldn’t believe those words were a lie. There was a desperate plea to them, like when his mother begged Voldemort to kill her instead.

“It’s obvious he faked his death so he could serve You-Know-Who without anyone coming after him,” Hermione said. “His last letter was just part of that scheme.”

“What was he apologizing to Sirius for?” Harry asked.

“I think that’s something you’ll have to ask Sirius yourself.”

\--- --- ---

Harry stood on the train platform and watched Susan Bones run to her parents. He thought again of the letters and wished he could read them over one last time. He just wanted to make sense of the person he’d built in his head and the person everyone claimed Regulus Black was.

Harry wondered if Susan’s family was going through as much strain as his, but her parents were laughing as she ran to them, and they didn’t look nearly as tired as his had when he saw them a month ago. Maybe they didn’t know that Regulus Black was responsible for what had happened to their family. The Minister had said it was something of a secret.

“Harry!” he heard his mother call, and he turned to see her stretching her arm over the crowd of parents and students to get his attention. Harry took his owl and his trunk to where his parents were waiting.

“Where’s Sirius?” he asked.

“In Hogsmeade,” James answered. “He’ll be bringing Remus home as soon as Remus finishes up at Hogwarts.”

Harry thought of Remus grading all those essays and having to walk past the dementors into Hogsmeade before apparating to their house. It would be good to have Sirius with him.

“Ready to go home and decorate?” Lily asked and took his hand.

This lifted Harry’s spirits considerably. Last year he hadn’t been able to go home, and he was quite excited to have Christmas with his parents, Sirius, and Remus without distraction of Hogwarts and monsters skulking about the castle.

When they arrived home, Harry insisted they wait for Remus and Sirius before they began to decorate. So, much to Harry’s delight, James suggested they fly around the yard for a bit. Even if it was on Sirius’s usual broom, and he wasn’t chasing a Snitch, it still felt good to throw a Quaffle back and forth with his dad. Lily watched from the back patio with mugs of hot cocoa.

Late into the evening, after the grandfather clock quietly chimed 3:33 and Harry was struggling to keep his eyes open, Sirius and Remus finally arrived.

They were bundled up against the cold and pink from the wind. Harry wondered why they hadn’t simply Apparated into the yard, then remembered all the protections his parents had put on the house during the summer.

Lily quickly had cups of tea on the table, and Harry was no longer sleepy.

“Had to walk halfway across the county,” Sirius grumbled as he clutched the warm mug.

Remus added, “It’s my fault, really. I just wanted to have all the grading finished before we left. I didn’t realize it was so late. It wouldn’t have been nearly so cold if we’d left earlier.”

“I completely understand,” Lily said.

James added, “I’ve tried to convince the Ministry to lift the Apparating protections from outside the property, but they won’t have it. It makes trips to London quite the ordeal.”

“You will be staying the night,” Lily said, and it wasn’t a request or an offer. It was insistence.

Harry helped her make sure the rooms in the house were ready to host guests. In such a large house with so few inhabitants, some of the rooms fell into disuse. He helped her put fresh sheets in two of the bedrooms and clean out most of the dust.

By the time they were finished, it had passed late and gone into early, and as such no one woke the next day before noon.

\--- --- ---

Christmas was small at the Potters, but not quiet in the least. Harry roused his parents from bed just after dawn with a lot of bed shaking and some eager commands to get up.

His parents trudged downstairs at his insistence and Harry helped with tea, since it was too early for his parents to use spells. Harry remembered once when his farher had tried to heat a kettle with his wand first thing in the morning, and the kettle had combusted.

Once they had steaming cups of black tea, Lily said, “You need to wake Remus and Sirius before we do presents.”

Harry was a little gentler with that. He woke Remus quietly, with gentle tugs and whispered begging to get out of bed. When Remus was finally out of bed, they went for Sirius together. Which Harry was grateful for. He wasn’t sure he’d have been able to do it as energetically on his own.

He and Sirius were speaking again, which was good, but there were still a lot of unsaid things. Things Harry was determined to say before the end of the holidays. He was not going back to school without getting some of his questions answered.

He and Remus managed to drag Sirius out of bed and downstairs. By the time everyone was assembled in the kitchen, Lily was awake enough to summon the presents from upstairs. Harry, of course, had his eye on the very long box that was just the right size for a broom. The only reason he hadn’t bothered his parents about a new broom was because was sure he’d get one for Christmas. And there it was. He decided to open it last.

His parents gave Sirius a pair of things that looked vaguely like brightly colored phones, but there were no wires attached to them. Whatever they were, Sirius thought they were a riot, and said he should hide one in Remus’s desk and disrupt class.

Remus received a new winter cloak from Sirius and new books from James and Lily. Harry, who hadn’t been able to do much shopping in Hogsmeade, had at least given them all unique Christmas cards. He’d been inspired by Ginny’s shrill get-well-soon card, but of course, he hadn’t attempted to make his sing any Christmas carols. He’d simply charmed a few moving pictures with some help from Dean Thomas.

Harry opened his presents in his turn, and was surprised to find a small present from his parents that contained three tickets to the Quidditch World Cup for the following summer.

He thanked his parents, but stared down at the tickets, still bewildered. It wasn’t as if the tickets were unexpected--though Harry had quite forgotten about the upcoming World Cup in the wake of his school work--but then who was the suspected broom from?

Harry reached for the long package and opened it carefully. It was indeed a broom, with a neatly polished handle and perfectly smoothed tail. “A Firebolt,” Harry breathed. His parents had money, of course, but these sorts of indulgences were unseemly. His parents didn’t approve of excess spending. There was only one person who could have given him this.

He looked up at Sirius with eyes wide. “You shouldn’t have--I mean--Thanks, but you shouldn’t have.”

Sirius grinned. “You were in need of a new broom. Only the best would do.”

As Harry began to organize his presents, he heard Lily whisper to Sirius, “I know you said you wanted to replace his broom but--really?”

And then his father whispered, “Mate, are you sure you can afford that?”

But when Harry looked up, Sirius was waving off their questions and getting to his feet. “Well, I for one am starved. Should we fix up some breakfast?”

Once the shock and awe of the Firebolt had passed, Harry only felt eager to ride it. He rushed through his breakfast and bounced anxiously in his seat for an hour while his mother insisted he let breakfast settle. Finally, she agreed he could go out on his broom, as long as James and Sirius were with him to make sure he was safe.

He knew James and Sirius were teasing him about wanting to stay inside where it was warm.

“But your mum’s cocoa,” Sirius said as Harry pulled on his arm to get him off the couch.

“I should help with Christmas dinner,” James said, leaning back in his chair.

“Uncle Remus can help with dinner,” Harry said. “And it’s not even lunch yet. Come on!” He dragged Sirius to the door and outside.

Sirius leaned against the side of the house, holding the cup of cocoa. “I’ll join you in the air in a minute,” he said. “But I’m right here. You’re good to take off without your mum having a fit.”

Harry mounted his broom and pushed off the ground. It lifted with such ease, it made his Nimbus look as unstable as flying Sirius’s bike. Harry zipped toward the treeline and skirted just over the leaves. The turn was sharper than he expected, and he laughed as he nearly tumbled from over-correcting. The Firebolt was the best broom in the world. The only disappointment Harry felt, and it was a small one, was that he’d have to wait an entire year to play against Malfoy again.

\--- --- ---

As loud as Christmas was, New Year's Eve was exceptionally quiet. Not because that was the usual for the Potters and their friends, but rather because the full moon fell on the twenty-ninth, so it was only Harry, his parents, Sirius, and a very tired Remus Lupin to ring in the new year.

While Lily was fixing up a potion for Remus’s aches, and James was losing poorly in a game of chess against Remus, Harry finally found a moment to talk to Sirius without fear of being disturbed.

“Thanks again for the Firebolt,” Harry said as he took a seat beside Sirius, next to the warm fireplace. “I think that we’ll definitely have a chance at the Quidditch Cup now, even if we lost our first match.”

Sirius smiled. “You deserve it, really. Sorry your match against Slytherin had to end so poorly.”

“It’s alright,” Harry said quietly. “Um--Uncle Remus said that--He said that the dementors affect you as badly as they do me. Is it true?”

Harry knew it wasn’t a pleasant subject to bring up on New Year’s Eve, but he needed some answers before he went back to school.

“Yes,” Sirius answered quietly. “The dementors are pretty hard on me.” He paused for a moment, and Harry wondered how much he would say about it. “I didn’t get on with my parents. Or my grandparents. Or my aunts or my uncles or my cousins. Just Andromeda, who ran off with a Muggle-born when I was barely twelve. The dementors bring back a lot of memories that I don’t like to think about. It’s why your dad’s the only family I count.”

“You didn’t get along with your brother, either?” Harry asked it hesitantly. The last time they’d spoken about Regulus, Sirius had gone into a bit of a temper. Harry hoped that three months later it was safer to talk about.

Sirius did not fly into a rage like last time. Instead, he let out a slow, steady breath. “We got along for a time. Then I got into Gryffindor, and he went to Slytherin. He was interested in pleasing my parents. I was interested in displeasing them.”

“I heard Madam Rosmerta say she had to throw you and Regulus out for fighting once.”

Sirius laughed. “She did. James was on a date with your mum at the time, so I was a bit more reckless than usual. How’d you hear that story? You’re not allowed in Hogsmeade.”

But Harry didn't feel embarrassed or guilty; Sirius had a twinkle in his eye that made Harry feel proud. So he told Sirius about the Marauder’s Map.

“I’m glad it made its way into good hands,” Sirius said, trying very hard to keep his laughter quiet. “So, which passage are you using?”

Harry told him about the One-Eyed Witch passage. Sirius nodded solemnly.

“It’s a good one. Peter and I ran a butterbeer trade in our sixth and seventh years using that passage. It was a very lucrative business. Your dad always suspected we were doing something of the sort, but at the time he was a little busy courting your mum to pay much attention to our antics.”

“Is that when you got into your worst trouble? When dad wasn’t around?”

Sirius snorted. “Not by half. He was just exceptionally good at talking us out of the punishment bit.”

Harry was quiet for a moment, thinking about his parents at Hogwarts and how much fun they must have had. Harry certainly had fun with his friends, but he felt like they got into more dangerous trouble than what he heard from his parents. He ended up fighting Acromantula and Basilisks instead of smuggling drinks in and out of town. 

Then he decided it was time to ask the question he’d been meaning to all week.

“Sirius… do you remember that letter I showed you? The last one that was written by your brother?”

“I told you it was a lie. He was probably--”

“I know, I know. But I was wondering…. What would he have been apologizing for? Why would he tell her to apologize to you?”

Sirius’s face looked very grim in the flickering firelight. “There are a good many things he would have to apologize to me for. For siding with our mother, for joining You-Know-Who, for a handful of duels which he got particularly nasty hexes off on me…. There are a long list of offences between us.”

“You don’t think,” Harry began slowly, “he was maybe apologizing for all of it?”

It took a long moment for Sirius to consider his answer. He finally said, “It’s best not to dwell on it, Harry. He’ll be caught soon, and this will all be over.”

But Harry couldn’t help thinking that that’s what everyone had said three months ago, and they were no closer to catching Regulus Black now than they were then. And he felt like, for every question he got answered, more questions seemed to arise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Headcanons and comments always appreciated!


	12. The Patronus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry gets anti-dementor lessons from Professor Lupin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry sorry--if I work all day I like to post the night before, which is what should have happened this week, but I have been sick and this chapter was nearly late and I'm just glad it's all done and edited before midnight tonight. I hope you all had wonderful days and didn't worry too much.
> 
> Many thanks to my beta ageofzero who does wonderful work on short notice. I'd be dead in the water without them.

The Hogwarts express left the Sunday after New Years’ Day. Harry was excited to see his friends again, and excited to show them his new broom, but the break had been too short. He missed his parents and Sirius. Even though he had just spent two weeks with them, it didn’t feel like two weeks. The house had been too quiet under the strain of Regulus Black’s illegal parole for Harry to feel like he’d really gotten to see his parents. Instead, it felt like he saw pieces of his parents.

As they crossed the barrier onto Platform 9 and ¾, Harry reflected that he’d had similar feelings while his mother was at Hogwarts. He wondered if growing up was going to be like this forever, or if catching Regulus Black really would fix things.

“Harry!” Hermione shouted and waved at him. She was on the step of a carriage, and her parents were helping her with Crookshanks’s basket.

Harry waved back and turned to say goodbye to his parents. Then he heard someone shout, “Llewelyn, no!”

Harry turned to see the small black cat weaving its way through the crowd. It jumped up onto Harry’s trunk, chest up and tail swishing, and seemed to stare intently at Harry and his parents.

“Oh, hello,” Lily laughed and reached out to pet the cat. Its ears went back as she approached it so she withdrew her hand.

“Isn’t that Ginny’s cat?” Remus asked, looking around for its owner.

Ginny appeared, panting. Harry wondered how far she’d run to catch up with her cat. “I’m sorry,” she said quickly. She wrapped her hands around her cat’s middle and tried to pull him off of Harry’s luggage, but its claws clung to the trunk. “I’m sorry,” she said again.

“It’s alright,” Lily laughed. “Cats are fickle creatures.”

Ginny finally pulled her cat off, face bright red, and went back to where her parents were saying goodbye to Percy. Harry caught her mumbling, “Just because I told you I like him doesn’t mean--” but he lost the rest of it in the crowd.

“She should get something sensible, like a dog,” James said with a small smile.

Lily lightly swatted his chest, and looked to Sirius, expecting at least a smile or an acknowledgement of the joke, but Sirius was staring after Ginny.

“Honestly, Pads,” James said, and Sirius startled at the old nickname, “it’s not as if she’s going to whisk Harry off in the middle of the night and steal his virtue.”

There was a brief hesitation before Sirius grinned. “Isn’t that what Lily did with you?”

“I think James did most of the whisking,” Lily said with a gentle laugh. “But I don’t think he stole any of my virtues.”

“I think you gave him a few better ones,” Remus said with a small smile.

Harry’s ears burned, and he had half a mind to tell his parents he did not want to hear about this, and they were in public, but he said nothing. He was just glad to see his family fall into their natural patterns of teasing each other.

The train whistled and Lily quickly kissed Harry goodbye. He hugged his father and Sirius, then he tried to help Remus load his luggage onto the train, and Remus tried to help him, which ended with them just switching trunks as they put their things on the train.

Once inside, luggage away, and the train moving steadily towards Hogwarts, Harry was not quite sure he wanted to leave Remus alone.

Remus seemed to read his thoughts. “Go sit with your friends, Harry. I’m going to stay up front with the conductor. I’m only here in case the dementors get friendly.”

“I don’t think they know the meaning of the word,” Harry said with a smile, but decided it would be okay to leave Remus. They were a week away from the full moon, and Remus looked like it was one of his better days. So he went towards the back of the train, where he had seen Hermione boarding.

He was halfway back when someone behind him called, “Harry!”

He turned to see Oliver Wood squeezing between a pair of Ravenclaw first years to catch up to him.

“Hey, Oliver,” he said. “How was your Christmas?” He tried to sound nonchalant, and not as if he was bursting to tell Oliver about his new broom.

“It was fine. I ah--I did some thinking. After last match, you know. If the dementors come to the next one… I mean… we can’t afford you to--well--”

“I’m working on it,” Harry said quickly. “Uncle--Er, Professor Lupin promised to help. And I got a broom for Christmas.”

Wood brightened immediately, and his shoulders relaxed as quickly as if someone had cut a taut rope. “Good. Good model? Nimbus or a Comet?”

“A Firebolt,” Harry said with an uncontrollable grin.

Wood’s eyes went wide. “You’re joking.”

“My godfather bought it for me.”

“A Firebolt,” Wood repeated in a whisper, in awe of the very name. “Incredible. We’ll win for sure.”

Harry certainly hoped so.

The Ravenclaw first years were looking at him with wide eyes. He brushed his bangs over his forehead and quickly made his way to the last compartment where he found his friends.

Ron glumly recounted Christmas at home with Percy, and Molly fawning over Ginny’s cat. The highlight was Fred and George slipping fireworks under Percy’s chair that went off as dessert started.

Hermione was in the middle of explaining to Ron and Harry that Muggle crackers weren’t quite the same as the ones at Hogwarts when the door to the compartment burst open.

Fred and George pushed their way in.

“Harry--” Fred said, then paused to catch his breath.

“Is it true--” George said.

“--that you got a Firebolt?”

“Can we see?” they asked in unison.

Harry stared at them, and before he could answer, two more students appeared in the doorway to the compartment behind Fred and George--a tall boy in Hufflepuff robes with a Prefect’s badge and a girl in a flower-print dress with a black brace on her wrist.

They didn’t say anything, or try to come inside, but stood awkwardly in the door. Harry had seen them around school, but he’d never actually met them before. He knew the boy was Cedric Diggory, the Hufflepuff Seeker, but he didn’t know who the girl was or if she was even in his year, and since she was in Muggle clothes, he had no idea which house she was in.

Fred and George, however, seemed to know them.

“Hey, clear off,” Fred said.

“Could we just look?” the girl asked.

“You’re competition,” George said. “Go on. You’ll see it on the pitch.”

Harry wasn’t sure he wanted the girl to leave, but Cedric Diggory shrugged his shoulders and led the girl off.

“Now can we see it?” Fred asked.

“Before the whole school gets down here,” George added.

“It’s with my trunk,” Harry said, a little disappointed he hadn’t thought to bring it in with him.

Fred and George looked disappointed too.

“I’ll have it at practice, though,” Harry said quickly.

“Can we have a go on it?” Fred asked.

“Sure,” Harry said, “but Ron gets to go first.”

Ron, who had been watching rather the exchange rather dismally, sat up, and his face went red. “Are you sure, Harry? You need to practice, too--”

“I’ve had all break to practice. As soon as we get a free afternoon, you can try it out.”

“But Gryffindors only,” said George. “We don’t need to be taking any chances with the enemy.”

Fred nodded in agreement.

\--- --- ---

Their first class back at school was Care of Magical Creatures. They’d been taking care of flobberworms, which was not nearly as exciting as petting hippogriffs, especially since all they did was feed the flobberworms lettuce. So the Slytherin and Gryffindor classes tried hard to look disappointed when Hagrid told them the flobberworms had died over the break.

Instead, they fed salamanders, which was actually pretty fun and exciting. The little lizards scampered across hot logs in a large bonfire, and the class ran around collecting leaves and sticks to feed them. The warmth was welcomed in the cold winter air.

Hagrid, however, looked exceptionally morose as he walked around the bonfire, making sure no students were throwing anything untoward at the salamanders. He took a rock from Goyle before settling next to Harry, Ron, and Hermione.

“Did you have a good Christmas?” Harry asked politely, though he wasn’t sure he wanted to hear the answer.

“Bit o’ bad news.” Hagrid blew his nose on his large handkerchief. “Heard from the board of governors about Buckbeak.”

Harry wasn’t sure what the bad news could be, if Hagrid was still here teaching class.

“You’re not fired,” Hermione said certainly, as if she was thinking the same thing. “What happened?”

“They’re takin’ the case to the Committee fer the Disposal o’ Dangerous Creatures.”

“That’s not terrible,” Ron said. “I’m sure Buckbeak will get off. He’s not a bad hippogriff--”

“Yeh don’ know them gargoyles at the Committee. They’ve got it in fer interestin’ creatures.”

Considering two years ago, Hagrid had tried to foster a baby dragon, Harry wasn’t sure Hagrid was a good judge of what was a dangerous creature and what was an interesting creature.

“You’ll be able to put in a good, strong defense,” Hermione said. “When’s the hearing?”

“In April.”

“That’s plenty of time!”

“Won’t make no diff’rence--Them Disposal devils, they’re all in Lucius Malfoy’s pocket. Scared o’ him. An’ if I lose the case--”

“We’ll help,” Hermione said. “I’m sure I’ve read something useful.”

Hagrid did not look cheered, but he didn’t have time to protest. He had to rescue Seamus, whose sleeve had caught on fire.

\--- --- ---

Thursday night, Harry left Ron and Hermione to do hippogriff research, and he went to the empty History of Magic classroom to meet Uncle Remus.

The classroom was dark, and Harry lit the lamps while he waited for Remus to arrive. He was used to Remus being five or ten minutes late, so he wasn’t concerned. And, sure enough, five after eight, Remus appeared with a large packing case that he set on Professor Binn’s desk.

“What is that?” Harry asked.

“Went boggart hunting.” Remus pulled his cloak off and draped it over the desk. “Found him hiding in Mr. Filch’s filing cabinet. You didn’t think I’d bring a real dementor in, did you?” he asked with a small twinkle in his eye.

Harry tried to laugh, because he was sure it was a joke, but he felt more apprehensive than anything else, and it sounded less like a laugh and more like a nervous breath.

“So,” Remus began and pulled out his wand, “the spell to ward off a dementor is called a Patronus Charm. When conjured correctly, the Patronus will stand between you and the dementors, like a shield. It’s a projection of the things dementors feed on--hope, happiness, the desire to survive--but it cannot feel despair, as real humans can, so the dementors can’t hurt it. But it is an incredibly difficult spell to produce, especially under the duress of facing a dementor. Even I have trouble with it at times.”

Harry remembered the silver swan gliding into the dining room in the middle of the night. He knew his parents had used them for quick communication before, but he’d never known you could use a patronus to shield yourself from a dementor. But they’d never had to face dementors before, so he supposed it had just never come up.

“What’s the incantation?” Harry asked.

“The incantation is, _expecto patronum_ ,” he paused for Harry to repeat it, “but that’s the easy part. Like facing a boggart, it requires extreme concentration of mind. You need to focus on a single happy memory and conjure your patronus from that moment.”

Harry tried to think of the happiest moment in his life. He wasn’t quite sure what would do. Opening a Firebolt? Flying a broom with his father and Sirius? The first time Sirius took him on his motorbike?

Harry finally settled on catching his first snitch, and the rush of victory he’d felt, even as he went tumbling into the dirt. “ _Expecto patronum_ ,” he said quietly. He repeated it louder, with a little more confidence, focusing very hard on the memory and a silvery wisp shot out of the end of his wand.

“Very good!” Remus said with a small smile. “Think you can do that against a dementor?” He put his hand on the case. It jiggled ominously.

“I’m ready,” Harry said and adjusted his grip on his wand.

Remus nodded and opened the box. A dementor rose out and Harry suddenly felt very cold. His hand shook, but he shouted, “ _Expecto patronum_!” and kept his wanted pointed on the dementor. 

He tried so hard to focus on catching the snitch and the joy he’d felt as everyone had cheered. But the classroom, the memory, and the dementor all seemed to dissolve into heavy white fog, and he heard his mother’s voice again, louder this time-- _“Not Harry!”_ \--and Voldemort’s deep reply was enough to send chills down Harry’s spine without the help of a dementor-- _”Stand aside. Stand aside, girl!”_

“Harry!”

Harry opened his eyes and found himself on the floor of the classroom. He sat up and rubbed the back of his head. It didn’t hurt. He wondered if Remus had caught him. But Remus had his hand on the latch of the case, just locking it shut.

“Are you alright?” Remus asked.

Harry nodded and used a desk to pull himself up. He took the Chocolate Frog from Lupin.

“It’s alright. I didn’t expect you to do it your first time. In fact, I would have been astounded if you had.”

“It’s getting worse,” he said. “I could hear her louder--and Voldemort--”

“We don’t have to continue,” Remus said gently. “I would more than understand if--”

“No, I do! I have to.” Harry quickly finished the Chocolate Frog. “If the dementors show up at our match against Hufflepuff, I can’t afford to fall off again. We’d lose the cup.”

“Alright.” There was a small smile on the corner of Remus’s mouth. Harry wanted to ask what Remus was thinking about, but before he could, Remus said, “You may want to try a happier memory. That one doesn’t seem strong enough.”

Harry wasn’t sure what counted as very happy. He searched his brain and came up with the midnight feast last year, after defeating the basilisk, and the relief he’d felt when all his friends were safe, when Hagrid had returned, and his parents were there.

“Okay,” Harry said.

Remus opened the box again.

The dark hood came out and it’s rotting hand raised towards Harry.

“ _Expecto patronum_!” he shouted. He thought he saw a bit of silver, but everything was quickly lost to that white fog. Harry tried to speak the spell again, but he was already bracing himself to hear his mother’s desperate voice again, and as he did, he lost sight of the memory.

But he didn’t hear his mother’s voice. He heard his father--

_“Take Harry and go! It’s him! Go, run! I’ll hold him off!”_

And he heard a high-pitched cackle that sounded like the laughter Harry had heard in the Chamber of Secrets, but eerily different, the way an old glass reflects a warped image of a person.

“Harry! Harry, wake up.”

Harry slowly came back to Remus’s voice, and he briefly wondered why he was on the floor and not at home in his bed before he remembered where he was.

“I heard my dad,” he said as Remus handed him another Chocolate Frog. “He tried to face Voldemort alone--” Harry rubbed his cheeks with the back of his hand.

It was strange, to think about his parents facing Voldemort, though he’d done it twice himself. They had always been so protective of him, and he felt like he was beginning to understand why. If Ron or Hermione were in danger, he’d do the same. And he’d be terrified if they tried to do it for him. How much more strongly must his parents feel?

“Without his wand,” Remus added with a heavy sigh, “so Sirius says.”

“He talked to Sirius about it, but not you?” Harry’s brow furrowed. He would never go to Sirius about something, well, serious. Not instead of Uncle Remus, anyway.

“Your father seems to think I have enough troubles and doesn’t like to add his to mine.”

“That sounds like what they say to me.” Harry hadn’t meant to say it, but the words tumbled out anyway. He instantly regretted them. They sounded childish, but where Sirius might’ve laughed at him, or his parents might have been hurt, Remus was only quietly thoughtful.

When Remus still said nothing, Harry said, “I’m sure it’s not because they think of you as a kid. If anything, you’re more responsible than they are. At least, I think you’re nearly as responsible as Mum is.”

Remus laughed gently. “I’m not too sure about that.” But whether he meant he was not as responsible as Harry thought, or Lily was less responsible than Harry thought, he didn’t say. 

Then suddenly, Remus asked, “You know your Christmas gift from Sirius was his way of apologizing, right?”

“I… I kind of figured,” Harry said. He wondered if he’d rather try again with the boggart or have this conversation with Uncle Remus. “I just--I wish he’d actually say it.”

“He’s better at doing things, rather than saying things.” Remus seemed very distant, and Harry was afraid to interrupt his thoughts.

Harry remembered what Sirius had said about Regulus Black. _“He had my mother’s flare for believable lies.”_ He wondered if Sirius was so poor at using words because he struggled with believing them himself. Then he wondered what Remus was thinking about, and what had prompted this conversation in the first place.

“Did Sirius apologize to you for something?” Harry asked.

Remus smiled faintly. “I’m not very subtle, am I? It was a long time ago. An old hurt, but… not one that is easily forgotten. No matter how much we have all tried to forget it.”

Harry wasn’t used to Remus being the cryptic one. Usually, if Remus didn’t want to answer, he would say so. He was nothing if not direct and honest with Harry, while cryptic messages were left to his parents. Unless it had something to do with the werewolf.

“Perhaps we should call it an evening,” Remus said suddenly, before Harry could press him for answers.

“Can I give it one more go?” Harry asked. “Please?”

Remus hesitated, then finally nodded. “Alright, then. When you’re ready.”

Harry wracked his brain for a stronger memory. He remembered his first night home from Hogwarts, sitting in the living room, recounting his year to his parents, Sirius, and Uncle Remus. He remembered very clearly the taste of his mother’s tea and cake, and his father’s laughter. He remembered Sirius interrupting his stories about his Quidditch matches to make them more dramatic. He remembered Remus praising his work in class. That night, home, with his family, surely counted as very happy. If that wasn’t strong enough, he didn’t know what was.

He focused until he could taste the cake and smell the old wood smell of his family’s house, then he nodded at Remus.

Remus opened the latch and again, the dementor rose out of the box. It’s rotting hand gripped the edge of the case and it pulled itself up, dark hood shadowing its face and it floated towards Harry.

The room went cold and dark, and Harry shouted, “ _Expecto patronum_ ,” as loud as he could. He heard his mother screaming, but it felt so far away, and the white fog hovered on the edge of his vision. A large silver shadow burst out of the end of Harry’s wand and hovered between him and the dementor. He could still hear his mother’s scream, and his legs felt like they were made of Sleeping Draught, but he managed to stay standing. He didn’t know how much longer he could stay on his feet, but--

“ _Riddikulus_ ,” Remus said, stepping between Harry and the boggart.

The shield fell away and the boggart turned into a full, silver moon that Remus shoved back into the box.

Harry sat down on a desk. He felt terrible, but he was proud of himself. He’d managed to stay on his feet.

“That was excellent,” Remus said with a smile. “An incredible start.” He handed Harry a large bar of chocolate. “Eat the lot, or Madam Pomfrey will be after my blood. Is the same time next week alright?”

Harry nodded. “Yeah. Thanks.” The chocolate made him feel warm again, and he returned to the common room feeling more confident than he’d felt all year.

\--- --- ---

Harry’s schedule was busier than ever. On top of his elective classes, Oliver Wood had them training for the Quidditch match five times a week. And Thursdays Harry had his patronus lessons with Professor Lupin. This left him with only Sunday evenings for all his homework.

The good news was that Ravenclaw beat Slytherin so if Gryffindor managed to win their next match, they could pull into second place. That was as long as Harry didn’t crash and burn from exhaustion first.

Still, he didn’t seem to have it nearly as bad as Hermione, who could be found at any given hour in a corner of the Gryffindor common room with no less than three books open. Harry and Ron still had no idea how she was getting to her classes, because she hadn’t missed a single one of her classes with them, but she was clearly getting homework in Arithmancy and Muggle Studies, which were at the same time as Care of Magical Creatures and Divination. She was starting to look as worn out as Uncle Remus, especially as the Hufflepuff-Gryffindor game and the full moon approached.

It would be the first of Harry’s Quidditch games that Remus would miss. It happened to fall on the day after the full moon of February. Harry was not disappointed, exactly, even though this particular year seemed to have the worst timing for full moons. He was mostly concerned with whether or not Sirius would come to his game. On one hand, he wanted Sirius and his parents to be with Remus, because he didn’t like the idea of Remus recovering alone. But on the other hand, it would be his first game on his Firebolt and he really wanted his family there to see him.

Finally, after a rather disappointing session with Remus, Harry trudged up to the common room to put the last touches on a Transfiguration essay. Usually Hermione edited his papers for him, but she was far too busy for that this year. Harry really wouldn’t mind doing it himself if patronus lessons weren’t so tiring.

“You look exhausted, mate,” Ron said as Harry took a seat next to him and Hermione in the common room.

Harry only grunted an answer.

“You’re not catching whatever Professor Lupin has, are you?” Ron asked. “He looked miserable in class today.”

Hermione snorted suddenly, in a way that startled Harry. But he ignored her and managed to say, “No, I’m not catching whatever Professor Lupin has. The boggart-dementor-thing is just draining, that’s all.”

“What do you think is wrong with him?” Ron asked.

“I think it’s rather obvious,” Hermione said as she finished the conclusion of a lengthy Arithmancy essay.

Ron looked like he was about to press Hermione further, so Harry quickly said, “Ron, did you finish your essay. D’you want me to look over it, and you can look over mine?”

Ron closed the book of cases involving magical beast incidents and dug through his bag for his Transfiguration essay. “You’re sure you don’t have time to help, Hermione?”

She snorted derisively, a clear sign she was tired of Ron asking for help. Harry didn’t mind if she was busy, but he wished she wasn’t so rude about it.

Harry watched Hermione shift her parchment and reach for a rune translation. She nearly spilled a bottle of ink all over a Muggle Studies essay, but Harry managed to catch it for her.

“Thanks,” she said, and set the bottle down on top of her books where it would be safer.

Harry was just through the introduction of Ron’s essay when Neville came into the Common Room, cheeks pink from the cold outside. Ginny was close behind, George’s broom in her hand. They’d come to the unsaid agreement of, “Don’t ask and I won’t tell Mum,” so that if pressed, George could feign ignorance, and Ginny promised Mrs. Weasley wouldn’t find out.

Llewelyn got up from his sleeping place by the fire, stretched, and walked over to Ginny, nuzzling her ankles. She picked him up and took him with her to put the broom away. Neville went over to Ron and Harry.

“How’s watching Ginny fly?” Ron asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Great,” Neville said breathlessly and reached into his coat pocket. He pulled out something small, furry, and wriggling, and dropped it into Ron’s lap. “That’s your weasel, isn’t it? Ernie MacMillan and I found him over by one of the greenhouses. I told you he’d turn up. Trevor always turns up. Though Trevor doesn’t bite nearly so much,” Neville said, and rubbed his finger.

Ron held Scabbers up and stared at him in amazement. “I thought he had run away for good.” Even still, Scabbers was squirming and trying to get out of Ron’s hands. He bit Ron’s finger, and Ron winced, but didn’t drop him. “Yeah, he’s his same old self,” Ron said.

Ginny came back downstairs, cat in her arms. “I knew it was Scabbers,” she said. “He has--” but she didn’t get to finish because Llewellyn jumped out of her arms and into Ron’s lap. Scabbers slipped out of Ron’s fingers and scampered over Harry’s Transfiguration essay. Llewellyn followed, claws tearing into the parchment.

Hermione dropped her rune translations as the animals ran into her study group. Llewellyn knocked the bottle of ink onto Hermione’s Arithmancy essay. They went around the entire common room. Students lifted their papers or jumped out of their seat to avoid being in the fray. By the time Ron got a hold of Scabbers again, and Ginny had grabbed Llewellyn, Hermione was nearly crying.

“Can’t you lock that cat up in your room?” Ron said to Ginny. 

“He doesn’t like to go in my room,” Ginny snapped. “Why don’t you lock Scabbers up in your room? Seeing how he likes to run away.”

Harry sat down next to Hermione, not particularly interested in getting in the middle of a sibling fight. “It’s alright,” he said. “If the essay was dry, you can just vanish the wet ink.”

With a shaky wand, Hermione said, “ _Evanesco_ ,” but she was left with a dark smudge on her essay. Readable, but she would probably lose presentation points. She burst into tears.

“I’ll copy it over for you,” Harry said.

“But then it won’t be in my handwriting,” Hermione wailed. “Profesor Vector will know.”

“I’ll use one of Fred and George’s forgery quills.”

Hermione stubbornly shook her head and her tears dripped onto the damaged essay, only making it worse.

Harry slipped upstairs to Fred and George’s dorm anyway. He knew Fred kept the quills in a hidden pocket of his school bag, because Fred had offered to sign his Hogsmeade permission form for him at the beginning of the year. Harry had declined, thinking that it wasn’t a good idea with Uncle Remus as a professor.

On his way back down he passed Ron, closing the door to their dorm and muttering angrily about Ginny and her cat.

Downstairs, Harry took Hermione’s essay from her, and gave her his Transfiguration essay. She wiped her eyes and mended the tears from Llewellyn while he copied her Arithmancy essay onto a fresh sheet of paper. He had no idea what any of it meant, but Hermione’s handwriting was so impeccable, he had no trouble copying the essay down word for word.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and headcanons always appreciated!


	13. Gryffindor vs Hufflepuff

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry has his first match on his Firebolt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> many thanks to my wonderful beta, ageofzero, who is always there in a crisis

Ginny and Ron weren’t speaking to each other, and Hermione wasn’t speaking to either of them. Even though Harry had copied her essay onto clean parchment for her, and only the last paragraph started to look less like Hermione’s neat handwriting and a little more like Harry’s untidy scratches. Harry said it looked like she had written the whole thing and just gotten tired at the end. Hermione still rewrote the last paragraph.

Gryffindor’s second Quidditch match was approaching quickly, and Harry’s anti-dementor lessons weren’t improving. He could do little more than hold the shield. He kept waiting for his patronus to turn into something that would charge the dementor down but it never did anything more than hover. 

Uncle Remus telling him that he was making excellent progress for his age wasn’t as encouraging as it should have been.

Friday night before the match, Ron went with Harry to practice. Harry was feeling better than he had in a while, possibly because Remus had canceled their lessons on Thursday. Ron, however, was still mad at Ginny and made a bit of a scene about going to ride Harry’s Firebolt after practice in front of Ginny.

“You could be a little nicer to her,” Harry said as they walked down to the Quidditch pitch.

“You didn’t see the way she was with Mum over the holidays. And the way she spoils that cat. I should tell Mum about her playing Quidditch.”

Harry let Ron complain, knowing Ron probably wouldn’t follow through on his threat. Ron was a lot of things, but he wasn’t a tattle tale. “At least Scabbers is okay,” Harry said.

“Yeah but I can’t take him anywhere. He has to stay shut up in the dorm. And when we get home, Mum’s going to favor the cat.”

Harry wasn’t sure how to help with that, but summer was a long way off.

In practice, while the Chasers passed Quaffles, and Fred and George hit Bludgers at them, Harry easily wove in-between them all.

The Firebolt was truly the best broom Harry had ever ridden. It seemed to react more on impulse than conscious direction. It made Harry’s reflexes in the air even better than Oliver’s. He didn’t think Hufflepuff had much of a chance.

Oliver Wood was more confident than ever. He told Harry that Cedric Diggory would be playing as Hufflepuff’s Seeker. Not only would Harry have an advantage with his broom, but Diggory was broad for a Seeker. “Just be careful he doesn’t knock you off your broom,” Wood added.

Harry’d gone up against Marcus Flint his first year, so he was pretty sure he’d be alright.

After warm-ups, Oliver let the Snitch out of the box. Harry had no trouble chasing it down on his Firebolt. Ron cheered excitedly from below every time Harry caught the Snitch. It was hard not to feel confident about tomorrow’s game.

Even Oliver Wood, who had been positively dismal about their upcoming match was overcome by the wonder of the Firebolt. He clapped Harry on the shoulder after practice. “Now, as long as you have that dementor problem under control--”

“Yep. Perfectly alright.” Harry knew his patronus was feeble at best, but in the moment of flying his Firebolt, he felt like he could produce a pretty decent shield.

“Alright, team. Make sure you get a good night’s rest.”

Harry agreed, but stayed out a little later so Ron could fly the Firebolt. He waited down below on the pitch while Ron took the Firebolt out for a spin. Even though Harry was watching from the ground, he couldn’t help but grin at Ron’s excited cheers. Harry wasn’t even sure how he was going to get Ron back down until Ron tried a loop and nearly fell off. He came down from that a little green and handed Harry back the Firebolt.

“What a ride,” he said breathlessly, and began to talk animatedly about the pinpoint turns and its phenomenal acceleration speed.

They said goodnight to Madam Hooch and walked back to the castle, still discussing the Firebolt’s superior qualities over other brooms. Harry glanced up at the full moon. It was so bright tonight, they could see all the way down to the castle from the Quidditch pitch.

Then suddenly, Ron grabbed Harry’s arm. “Do you see that?” he hissed and pointed.

A large black shadow was running into the Forbidden Forest. Harry thought it looked exactly like a big dog.

“I don’t see anything,” Harry said and took his glasses off. He pretended they were smudged to avoid Ron pressing him further. He couldn’t imagine why Sirius would be out right now as a dog. Unless Uncle Remus was out in the Forbidden Forest. But that wasn’t right. There was the house in Hogsmeade for them to use tonight. He couldn’t think why they’d be all the way out here.

He put his glasses back on and looked at Ron, who looked white as a ghost.

“What’s the matter?”

“It was the Grim, Harry.”

Harry laughed.

“I’m not joking. You didn’t see it. Only I saw it!”

“You need to do less Divination homework. Professor Trelawney said I was going to be the one to die.”

“She said around Easter someone was going to leave forever!”

“Well it isn’t quite Easter, is it?”

“But it’s around Easter!” Ron said desperately.

Harry was trying to think of anything he could to pacify his friend when something walked out of the Forbidden Forest--an orange tabby with a squished face.

“It’s only Crookshanks,” Harry said. “You must’ve just seen him in the shadows and thought it was a dog.”

Ron didn’t not look convinced and when they got back to the dorm, he climbed into bed, still looking very pale and very terrified.

\--- --- ---

Harry’s match against Hufflepuff could not have been more different from their match against Slytherin.

For starters, the sun was shining brightly. There wasn’t a cloud in sight. And instead of looking glum, Wood looked positively giddy. He walked downstairs with Percy, chatting animatedly about the perfect weather conditions and how wonderful everything was. Harry set his Firebolt down next to him while he ate breakfast and Wood fought off a crowd of onlookers.

“Don’t you dare sabotage it, Diggory,” Wood snapped.

“I just want to look at it,” Cedric Diggory protested. “Harry, will you let me look?”

Harry would’ve said yes, but Oliver Wood said, “You’ll look when it’s zipping past you to get that Snitch. Now clear off!”

“It’s fine, Oliver, really,” Harry said. “Sit down and eat.”

“I’m not letting anyone sabotage our star broom--er, Seeker. We’ve had too many accidents with you. Not today.” Oliver Wood eyed the Slytherin table suspiciously.

Draco Malfoy called out from the other side of the hall, “Sure you can manage that broom, Potter?”

“Yeah, reckon so,” Harry shouted back.

“Got plenty of special features, doesn’t it? Shame it doesn’t come with a parachute in case you get too near dementors.”

“Shame yours doesn’t come with zipper, so you can shut your fat mouth.”

“Harry!”

Harry winced. He knew that scolding voice anywhere. He turned to see his parents walking into the Great Hall.

“Hi, Mum,” he said and quickly took a sip of his juice.

“If I was still a teacher I’d take five points for talk like that.”

His dad, however, winked at him. “I’d give you ten points for your wit.”

Lily slapped James lightly on the chest, then turned all her attention to Harry. “Well, are you excited? Nervous?”

“It’ll be good,” Harry said with a grin. He grabbed his Firebolt and stood. “I could take on the world today.”

“That’s my boy,” James said and clapped him on the shoulder.

They were about to head down to the pitch when Lily touched Harry’s elbow. “Harry, is Ron alright?” She pointed to the end of the table, where a very squeamish Ron was nibbling on a piece of toast.

“He--uh--he thinks he saw the Grim last night.”

James stifled a laugh, very poorly. “I’ll talk some sense into him.”

“You will not,” Lily said and smacked James a little harder this time. “I do wish Remus was here, though. Come on, James, we’ll make sure he sits with us.”

“How is Uncle Remus?” Harry asked quickly, before his parents could retrieve Ron.

“It was a hard night,” Lily said. “Nearly a super moon. But he’s doing well. He said to send you our best. Sirius too.”

“I’m glad Sirius is with him,” Harry said.

Lily smiled and brushed Harry’s bangs out of his face affectionately. “Don’t be late to change. We’ll see you down on the pitch.”

Harry didn’t need to be told twice. He ran down to the pitch, broom in hand. Oliver Wood was right on his heels. Everyone else was already changing in the locker room.

Oliver Wood delivered his usual impassioned speech about victory, and slipped in a few extra sentences about praise for the Firebolt.

“Let’s get on with it,” Fred finally groaned. “Come on, Oliver. Harry’s lost the Snitch once, and it wasn’t his fault. It’ll be great. Better than great.”

That didn’t make Harry feel too confident. He made sure to tuck his wand into his shirt under his robes in case he needed to cast his Patronus, then followed his team onto the Quidditch pitch.

Oliver Wood and Cedric Diggory shook hands and mounted their brooms. The earth was firm and spongy. Perfect for a kickoff. Harry’s heart began to pound with the excitement of the match. On Madam Hooch’s whistle, the teams took to the air.

Harry deployed his usual strategy of hovering over the stadium and hunting for the Snitch. Cedric Diggory wove in and out between the players. Harry wondered if he should be doing the same. It wouldn’t be difficult on his Firebolt. But his strategy had served him well in the past--except for in the rain--so he figured he’d better stick to it.

But when he heard Lee Jordan on the announcer, praising the Firebolt, he couldn’t help but show off a few sharp turns and duck underneath a few Bludgers.

Then McGonagall scolded Lee Jordan for spending more time talking about the Firebolt than the game, and Harry returned to hovering above the pitch.

He caught sight of the Snitch flitting near one of the barriers on the ground and dove straight after it. Diggory was close on his heels.

He was only a few feet from the Snitch, quickly outstripping Diggory, when he had to turn to avoid a Bludger. He missed the Snitch by inches and when he was resorted, he didn’t see where it had gone.

Diggory went straight up and Harry followed, but the two ended up hovering over the stands together.

Diggory grinned at him, then dove back down into the fray of the fight.

Harry was about to follow, but he realized that’s what the Hufflepuff Seeker wanted. Harry had feinted for the Snitch before, but he’d never had anyone try it on him. It caught him a little by surprise.

Harry stayed where he was, scanning the pitch for that tiny flutter of gold wings. He glanced in the crowd once to see his parents sitting with Hermione, Ron, Dean, and Seamus. He didn’t see Neville or Ginny. He wondered where they were. Surely Ginny wouldn’t be missing this match. Maybe she just wouldn’t want to sit with Ron.

When Harry looked back at the field, he saw the Snitch diving in-between the Gryffindor goal posts. Harry took off for it like a rocket. He wasn’t worried at all about outstripping Diggory. The Firebolt would out pace him any day. So even though Diggory was ahead of him, he wasn’t concerned.

But as he drew closer to the Snitch, closer to passing Diggory, the Hufflepuff Seeker banked sharply and blocked Harry’s path. Harry collided with him and nearly tumbled off his broom. There was a sharp gasp from the stadium and he felt like everyone was holding their breath until he got his balance back.

“Alright?” Diggory called out, and it looked like he was genuinely concerned. “Thought you’d dive out of the way with your pinpoint turns and all.”

“Thought I’d knock you over instead,” Harry joked and lifted up so he could survey the whole field again. This time, Diggory did the same.

The two stayed just above the action, surveying the field for the Snitch. Harry finally saw it a third time on the Ravenclaw end, but Harry didn’t head that way just yet. Instead, he dove straight down. Diggory followed.

Harry went low as he could before banking hard and heading to the Ravenclaw end. Diggory had trouble with the hard upturn and fell several paces behind Harry. Harry could still see the Snitch high above them and started for it as fast as he could. He had to swerve under a Bludger, and Diggory managed to catch up just on his heels.

Then he heard Diggory shout, “Hey!” very angrily, and it didn’t sound like it was meant to distract Harry. He knew he shouldn’t, but he glanced back, just to see what happened.

Three dementors, three tall, black, hooded dementors were looking up at him.

Harry reached into his robes without a thought. He pulled his wand out and shouted, “ _Expecto patronum!_ ”

It wasn’t the usual unsteady shield. It was something large, and the silver-white figure charged towards the dementors. Harry didn’t even pause to see what his figure was, or how the dementors reacted. He was still burning with the adrenaline of the game and he reached out for the Snitch. As his fingers closed around it, Madam Hooch’s whistle sounded.

Before Harry could get on the ground, his team rushed him. Gryffindors in the stands cheered so loud, Harry wondered if he was going deaf.

Students rushed onto the field, Ron right in front, apparently over his fear of the Grim in the wake of Gryffindor’s victory. And then his parents were right next to him. His mother hugged him and his father was grinning like mad.

“I can’t believe you cast a Patronus,” Lily said in astonishment. “Where did you learn it?”

“Uncle Remus taught me,” Harry said quickly, “in case the dementors came to the match again. It worked pretty well, didn’t it?”

James covered his broad smile with his hand. “Well--I’m sure it would’ve been, but they weren’t exactly dementors.”

This didn’t make any sense to Harry, and he followed his parents out of the crowd to where they could see the “dementors” lying in the grass.

Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle, and Marcus Flint were floundering in three sets of long black cloaks. Professor McGonagall was giving them a lecture worse than any Harry had ever heard. She was shouting, practically red in the face.

“An unworthy trick! A low and cowardly attempt to sabotage the Gryffindor Seeker! Detention for all of you, and fifty points from Slytherin! I shall be speaking to Professor Dumbledore about this, make no mistake! Ah, here he comes now!”

Harry felt worlds better. This absolutely made up for his loss against Slytherin in the fall.

“Harry!” George shouted. “Party in the common room! Let’s go!”

Harry quickly hugged his parents goodbye. “Tell Uncle Remus about my Patronus,” he said. “And don’t be mad at him for teaching me. I really needed to learn.”

Lily laughed, and he knew she had definitely been planning to scold Remus for teaching such a high-level spell to Harry. “Of course we won’t be mad at him.”

“I’m sure he’ll be excited to hear about it,” James said. “Now go on, celebrate with your friends. We’ll see you when you play Ravenclaw for the cup.”

\--- --- ---

The Gryffindor party lasted all day and most of the night. Even Ron and Ginny sort of made-up, the way siblings do, where they just sort of move on from being mad at each other because they have a new joy to share in. Hermione, however, still under stress from her classes, spent the entire evening in her corner with her books. Harry tried to get her to join in, but she insisted she had too much work to do and would appreciate it if he could leave her alone to do it.

“Have you considered dropping a class? I think Professor McGonagall--”

“Absolutely not! I could never!”

“Because I’ve been thinking about dropping Divination.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Hermione said. “But I do have four hundred and twenty-two pages to read.”

“At least have something sweet.” Harry handed her a bottle of butterbeer, smuggled out of Hogsmeade courtesy of Fred and George, and of course, Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs.

She stared at the butterbeer for a moment, then finally accepted it. “Thank you. Now may I please finish this? It’s due Monday.”

Harry left her to herself.

The party continued until one in the morning, when Professor McGonagall came in and told them to get to bed. Harry, Ron, Seamus, and Dean were still talking animatedly at the match as they climbed the stairs to their dormitory. Neville was already sound asleep when they arrived, but Harry felt like he could stay awake for hours, even as he put on his pajamas.

But all of them, the minute they climbed into their beds, fell asleep right away.

Harry dreamed he was walking in the Forbidden Forest, Firebolt in hand. He was chasing something silver-white, winding its way through the trees. He could never quite catch up with it, or catch a glimpse of it. He managed to get it into a clearing, and he was just close enough to see what it was when he heard a loud scream.

Harry sat up and realized the scream was not in his dreams. It was Ron, one bed over. He quickly opened his bed curtains, and heard others doing the same.

Dean Thomas lit a lamp and they saw Ron, sitting up in bed, hangings torn on one side. He was deathly pale, like last night when they’d seen the Grim.

“Black!” he whispered. “Regulus Black--standing over me with a knife!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your amazing patience and for reading so far. I'm so so happy you're still here and are enjoying this fanfic.
> 
> I will be taking a break for NaNoWriMo, so I can focus on an original work for 30 days. I was hoping I'd be able to get ahead in my Harry Potter chapters, but my job has been increasingly demanding of my time these last two months, so I haven't been able to write as much as I would like to.
> 
> So this is the last chapter of the season. I'm sorry to leave you with so many questions. I have a store of Percy Jackson fics that I'll be uploading once a week to keep my account active, if that interests you, but for now this project is on hold. Come December, I'll have a brand new chapter for you.
> 
> Thank you so much, and as always, comments and headcanons are always appreciated!


	14. Snape's Grudge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry sneaks off to Hogsmeade and the consequences for his actions might be too steep to talk his way out of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back! I hope you missed me. TBH I missed all of you. And welcome to all the new readers that came through during November! Wow! I expected to lose readers on the hiatus, not gain readers. I'm so happy to have everyone, and thank you all so much for staying with me!
> 
> I did not actually finish my novel for NaNoWriMo, but I did do what I set out to do, which was prove to myself I could write 50,000 words, for one story, in a month. So I hope to spend my time in-between HP chapters writing the rest of that book, and hopefully get it published soon. Who knows!
> 
> Special thanks to ageofzero, who is always so willing to beta and any time of the day, and listen to me complain about the struggles of altering canon. And now, I will let you read the chapter. It's the perfect chapter to come back to--lots of Marauders angst, Harry growing up, and Harry being friends with Neville! Enjoy!

That morning at breakfast, Ron was the center of attention. Even though the events of last night clearly still terrified Ron, he seemed keen on retelling the story more and more dramatically each time.

“It was the night before the match,” he began, “and I saw the Grim. Big, black, hulking dog on the edge of the Forbidden Forest. I knew right then Regulus Black was coming for me. Barely escaped with my life, I did.”

Harry was happy to let Ron have the center of attention. The only real trouble was Hermione sitting next to him that morning and asking if he had any intention of turning in the Marauder’s Map now that they were sure Regulus Black was able to get in and out of the castle.

“Uncle Remus knows where all the passages are,” Harry said. “I said I’d turn it in if he asked me to.”

Hermione still didn’t find this acceptable, even when Ron assured her they would’ve heard if Honeydukes had been broken into. However Regulus Black was getting in and out of the castle, it was unlikely he was using the same passages their Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher was aware of and could easily keep an eye on.

Before Hermione could argue further, Hedwig swooped in and dropped a letter next to Harry’s breakfast plate. 

“It’s from Hagrid,” Harry said, recognizing the heavy scrawl of large letters. He opened it, then passed it to Ron and Hermione “He wants us to come down for tea this afternoon.”

“I bet he wants to hear all about Black,” said Ron with a mouth full of eggs.

“Buckbeak’s case is on Friday,” Hermione said. “I’m sure he just wants to go over what we’ve researched.”

Harry had been so wrapped up in his fight with Sirius, the Firebolt, Quidditch practice, anti-dementor lessons, and Regulus Black, that he’d completely forgotten to help look for cases for Buckbeak. His stomach tightened with guilt.

“D’you mean you’ve still been researching that?” Ron asked. “On top of all your homework?”

“Of course I have,” she snapped. “I promised I would, didn’t I?”

Harry stabbed at his potatoes and tried not to look miserable. “Is there anything left we can do to help?”

Hermione assigned them each two books they could spend their Sunday afternoon taking notes on while she finished a translation for Ancient Runes.

That evening, when they trooped down to the Entrance Hall to wait for Hagrid to collect them, since they weren’t allowed out of the castle on their own, Harry felt a little bit better having read through those books. He and Ron hadn’t done much, but they’d done something, and it seemed to have eased Hermione’s stress at least a little.

Tea at Hagrid’s turned out to be rather dismal. Hagrid was grateful for their research, but didn’t seem to think it would help much.

“It was clearly Malfoy’s fault,” Hermione said. “All the evidence is there.”

Hagrid sniffed and rubbed his nose. “Won’t matter once Lucius Malfoy starts talking.”

Harry quickly changed the subject to Quidditch, and the conversation became about the approaching game for the cup final, and Gryffindor’s chances, which weren’t the worst chances in the world, but Harry knew the game against Ravenclaw was going to be a rough one. Their Seeker was fully recovered from her injuries over the winter break, and he'd heard she was really good.

When Hermione finally insisted she’d stayed away from her homework long enough, Hagrid walked the three back up to the castle. They returned to the common room just as Percy Weasley was pinning up an announcement for Hogsmeade next weekend.

Ron glanced at Harry, silently asking if Harry would go. Harry wasn’t sure it was a good idea, not with Regulus Black coming in and out of the castle without getting caught, but he shrugged his shoulders. The passageway was still open, so maybe Uncle Remus didn’t think it was relevant to Regulus’s capture.

“You shouldn’t go, Harry,” Hermione said, suddenly looking up from her work.

“Why not?” Ron asked. “Harry, you haven’t even seen inside Zonko’s yet.”

“Regulus Black nearly killed you!” Hermione hissed at Ron. “And you think it’s a good idea to go wandering around Hogsmeade where anyone--”

“I could take the Invisibility Cloak,” Harry suggested. “Then even Regulus Black wouldn’t be able to find me.”

Hermione pursed her lips, then went back to her essay. “Well I’ve got too much work to do to go with you,” she said, as if this might make Harry want to stay behind with her. It really didn’t.

\--- --- ---

Next Saturday, Harry went to see Ron off to Hogsmeade. He waved goodbye at the Entrance Hall, hand in his pocket with the Marauder’s map and Invisibility Cloak in his bag. When Ron was gone, and Filch had finished glaring suspiciously at him, Harry left for the third floor corridor and the one-eyed witch passage. He checked the Marauders Map to be sure no teachers were coming, and sure enough, there weren’t any, but Neville Longbottom was coming around the corner.

Harry quickly shoved his bag behind the witch and the map into his pocket just as Neville saw him.

“Harry! What’re you doing over here?”

“Uh--just on my way to--to work on my vampire essay for Professor Lupin,” he said quickly.

“I haven’t done it either,” Neville said. “We can do it together. I don’t understand all of it.” 

Harry definitely had all the answers to the vampire essay, thanks to lots of conversations with Remus, but he didn’t have any as to how to get out of this situation with Neville. Unfortunately, the situation only got worse.

“Especially that thing about the garlic at all--do they have to eat it, or--” Neville broke off, staring at something over Harry’s shoulder. “H-hello, Professor Snape,” he stammered.

Harry turned around, and pretended not to notice the way Neville seemed to use Harry as a shield between him and Snape.

“And what are you two doing here?” Snape asked with a raised eyebrow. “An odd place to meet--” His eyes drifted between Harry, Neville, and the statue.

“We’re on our way to the library,” Harry said quickly. “Long essay to do about vampires,” he said. “Professor Lupin has us doing a lot of research.”

Snape didn’t look impressed. “And does Mr. Longbottom need excessive help opening a textbook and doing his own research? Or should I report you for cheating off each other’s essays?”

Harry’s hand tightened around the map in his pocket. “Did you know,” he asked, “that some vampires claim to be immune to garlic?”

Snape rolled his eyes. “If that’s what Lupin thinks passes for education in a Defense Against the Dark Arts class, I can’t imagine how you’ll do on your O.W.L.s. I think you’ll find that the research on garlic immunity is--”

“Yes, yes, highly inconclusive,” Harry continued, taking a hold of Neville’s shoulder and steering him towards the library. “It’s a real shame that even researchers can’t get over their prejudices in order to do proper studies. We might find some real solutions,” he sighed an exaggerated sigh of utter melancholy. “But I’m sure you don’t want to keep us from our work, since we have so much of it to do.”

As soon as they were out of earshot and eyesight of Snape, Neville gasped for breath. “How do you do it Harry?” he whispered as they arrived at the library.

“Do what?”

“Talk to Snape like that!”

Harry shrugged his shoulders. He couldn’t exactly say it was lots of practice. He’d found the adults in his life relatively reasonable, until the last couple years, at least. He must’ve learned it from watching Sirius and his father interact with other adults. He’d also watched all of his family lie quickly and tactfully for Remus. He’d picked up a few tricks.

Neville stepped into the library, but when Harry didn’t follow, he paused. “Did you forget your book bag, Harry?” Neville asked.

Harry glanced over his shoulder, then motioned Neville closer. He whispered, “How would you like to go to Hogsmeade?”

\--- --- ---

Under any other circumstances, Harry probably wouldn’t have shown Neville the secret passage. But he felt bolstered by the way he’d lied to Snape and angry with Snape’s insults at Neville. He felt that Neville deserved a little cheering.

At first, Neville was terrified of getting caught, until Harry assured him that no teachers knew about this secret passage, not even Filch. Then Neville was terrified of getting killed by Regulus Black.

“I thought you were the one who wanted to catch him?” Harry said.

“I thought you were the one that wanted to prove him innocent,” Neville shot back.

Harry paused, wondering just how long Neville had been thinking about his comments about Regulus Black’s letters. “I’m sorry if I sounded insensitive about what he did to your parents,” Harry said. “I didn’t mean it like that at all. I just wanted to understand--” He wasn’t sure what exactly he’d been trying to understand. How Sirius could have such a horrible brother? How anyone could leave their family like Sirius had? “It really doesn’t matter,” he finally finished. “Especially after what happened to Ron, I think it’s clear that I was wrong.”

“It’s alright,” Neville said. “But how are you not worried he’ll find you in Hogsmeade?”

Harry debated about showing Neville the Invisibility Cloak or not. He could just walk around Hogsmeade like he had last time. There’d be lots of Hogwarts students around, and he could easily blend in with them. But he also knew that everyone knew he and Neville were banned from Hogsmeade. So he showed Neville the Invisibility Cloak. It covered him, Ron, and Hermione easily, so it had no trouble concealing just Harry and Neville.

They met Ron just outside Honeydukes. Harry poked Ron gently in the back. “It’s me,” he whispered.

“What kept you?” Ron hissed back.

“Snape,” he grumbled. “Oh, and I have Neville with me.”

“Hi,” Neville squeaked, and Harry had to grab Neville’s hand before he could stick it outside the cloak to wave at Ron.

“Why--” Ron started, then shook his head. “Nevermind. Come on, let’s check out Zonko’s.”

Zonko’s turned out to be awfully crowded. Harry didn’t have a lot of room to look around because he was too busy staying out of people’s way and helping Neville stay out of people’s way. They couldn’t get bumped into and cause a panic. Despite all the attention Harry had to give Neville, he still managed to pick out a handful of Dungbombs, Hiccup Sweets, Frog Spawn Soap, and even a Nose-Biting Teacup to take back to the dormitory. Neville conservatively chose the Hiccup Sweets and after a lot of convincing, took a Nose-Biting Teacup for himself.

“Convince your mum to give it to Tonks,” Harry advised. “As a congratulations on becoming an Auror.”

Neville laughed as quietly as he could into his hand, but promised Harry he would. Alice Longbottom and Nymphadora Tonks were both the sort that would appreciate such a gift.

The day was pleasant, not too warm or cold, so they walked up to the Shrieking Shack. It was a bit outside of the town, on a hill just overlooking the edge of the village. Even in the spring sunlight, it looked dingy and creepy, with its boarded windows and overgrown garden.

“Fred and George said they’ve tried to get in,” Ron said, “but it’s all shut up. Hermione said it’s the most haunted place in Britain.”

“We don’t have to stay up here,” Neville suggested in a shaky voice.

Harry thought about telling Ron and Neville the truth about the Shrieking Shack--that it wasn’t haunted by ghosts at all, but by a werewolf. He wondered if that would scare them less or more. In the end, he decided not to say anything. He didn’t want them asking how he knew.

He was pretty sure Hermione had figured out Remus’s secret, but Hermione hadn’t said anything about it, so Harry assumed she was smart enough not to share it. Hermione probably knew a thing or two about prejudices because of her blood. Harry had been meaning to talk to her about it, but it was hard to find a time when she wasn’t stressed about school work or when Ron wasn’t with him. Harry loved Ron, but he couldn’t be sure that Ron hadn’t been raised to believe werewolves were monsters. Ron certainly hadn’t stood with Harry all the times Harry had stood up to Lockhart last year.

Harry was about to suggest they head back when they heard voices from the other side of the hill.

“... should have an owl from Father any time now,” Malfoy was saying. “That hippogriff’s as good as dead.”

Harry’s hands tightened into fists and he quickly led Neville closer to a line of trees. “Stay here,” he whispered to Neville, then took the cloak away. He hoped Neville had enough sense to stay hidden from Malfoy.

Just as Harry reached Ron’s side again, Malfoy caught sight of them. Well, of Ron. Harry was safely hidden under the cloak, and Neville hadn't revealed himself--yet anyway.

“What are you doing, Weasley?” Malfoy said with a grin. “Dreaming about having your own bedroom? I heard your family all sleep in one room--is that true?”

Harry grabbed Ron’s robes before Ron could leap on Malfoy.

“We were just discussing your friend Hagrid,” Malfoy continued as Harry walked over to a mud puddle and scooped up a clump.

“D’you think he’ll cry when they cut off his hippogriff’s--”

Harry threw the mud at the back of Malfoy’s head and it hit as if Harry’s aim was as good as a Chaser’s.

Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle whipped around, but couldn’t find the source of the attack.

“Who did that?” Malfoy spat, trying to wipe the mud out of his hair.

“Very haunted up here, isn’t it?” Ron said, and stuffed his hands into his pockets.

Harry scooped up another handful and hit Malfoy right in the face. Crabbe ran at him wildly, heading for the vague direction of the throw, and Harry sidestepped him easily. He threw a stick at Crabbe’s back, and Harry was sure he heard Neville snicker, but when Crabbe turned around, Harry tripped him. As Crabbe fell, his foot caught on the cloak and it slipped off Harry’s head.

Malfoy stared at Harry's disembodied head for a second, then screamed and ran back down the hill.

Harry hastily pulled the cloak back up, but it was useless. Malfoy would report what he’d seen directly to Snape, and Harry and Neville would be in detention for the rest of the year.

“We’re dead,” Neville moaned, and Harry opened the cloak for Neville to climb under.

“We’ll beat him back,” Harry said, and they ran back to Honeydukes.

Harry knew it would be a close call. Snape already suspected the statue and would look there first, and Neville wasn’t nearly as quick as Draco Malfoy. Harry also didn’t want to get caught with the Invisibility Cloak, so he made a risky plan as they ran down the passage and back to the castle.

“Take the cloak,” he said to Neville. “Go back to the library and pretend we’d just been studying there.”

“What if you get caught--”

“Just make sure you don’t get caught,” Harry insisted. He yanked the cloak off and threw it at Neville, then started to climb up to the statue. “Just say ‘Dissendium’ and tap the witch with your wand as soon as you’re through,” he said.

Harry pulled himself through the statue and only managed to get about two steps away before Snape came around the corner.

“So,” he said with a superior smile.

Harry tried to look innocent, but he knew he was red-faced, sweaty, and his hands were muddy. He shoved his hands into his pockets.

“Come with me, Potter,” Snape said.

Harry obediently followed Snape down to his office in the dungeons, knowing that Snape had no real proof, and he could probably still talk his way out of this.

“Mr. Malfoy has just been to see me with a strange story, Potter,” said Snape. He paused, waiting for Harry to defend himself, but Harry knew better than to confess before being accused.

“He tells me that he was up by the Shrieking Shack when he ran into Weasley--apparently alone. He says that he was talking to Weasley when a large amount of mud hit him in the back of the head. How do you think that could have happened?”

Harry shrugged. “Tripped?”

Snape stared at Harry intently. Harry kept his face as impassive as possible. Snape was terrifying, but he was nothing like when Lily was angry. At least when Lily was angry, Harry felt like he deserved it. But he had never felt like he deserved the way Snape treated him.

“Mr. Malfoy then saw an extraordinary apparition. Can you imagine what it might have been, Potter?”

“Well, you said it was the Shrieking Shack, so, probably a ghost.”

“It was your head, Potter, floating in midair.”

Harry didn’t really know how to lie about that. He waited for Snape to accuse him of being there, but Snape still didn’t. So Harry said, “Maybe he’d better go to Madam Pomfrey if he’s having hallucin--”

“Malfoy is not having hallucinations,” Snape shouted. “If your head was in Hogsmeade, so was the rest of you.”

“I’ve been studying in the library with Neville, like I told you--”

“So if I go to the library now, Mr. Longbottom will be there to confirm your story?”

“Sure,” Harry said, hoping Neville had made it back to the library by then.

Snape’s dark eyes glittered eerily in the dim light of the dungeon. Terrifying as it was, Harry held his ground. Snape had no proof Harry had left the castle, and Harry even had witnesses to back him up. Unless Snape questioned Madam Pince, in which case he and Neville would be in trouble.

“How extraordinarily like your father you are. He too was exceedingly arrogant. Strutting about the place with his friends and admirers… The resemblance between you is uncanny.”

“My father doesn’t strut,” Harry snapped, “and neither do I.” Last year, his mother had cited humility as one of the things that made her fall in love with James. He knew his father hadn’t been the nicest person at school, as Lily so often reminded everyone, but he’d changed.

“Your father and his friends didn’t set much store by rules either,” Snape continued. “His head was swollen--”

“Shut up,” Harry said, hand tightening on his wand in his pocket.

“What did you say to me, Potter?”

“I said shut up. You don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t care that you and my dad didn’t get along. I don’t care about what he was like in school. He’s a hero. He saved your life, even. You wouldn’t even be here if it wasn’t for him!”

“And did your father tell you the circumstances in which he saved my life?”

Harry felt like he’d walked into a trap. “He didn’t--Dumbledore told me in first year--”

“Did Dumbledore consider the details too unpleasant for precious Potter’s delicate ears?”

Harry bit down on the inside of his cheek. He had wondered why his father hadn't told him anything about saving Snape's life, and he'd had to hear about it from Dumbledore. He didn’t want to admit he didn’t know, but it didn’t seem like it mattered. The way Snape smiled, it was obvious that Snape already knew Harry didn’t know.

“I would hate for you to run away with a false idea of your father and his friends, Potter. Have you been imagining some glorious act of heroism? Then let me correct you--your saintly father and his friends played a highly amusing joke on me that would have resulted in my death if your father hadn’t got cold feet at the last moment. there was nothing brave about what he did. He was saving his own skin as much as mine.”

Harry’s skin crawled. He hadn’t heard anything like that. Had Dumbledore been trying to protect him? Or was Snape lying?

Snape spat suddenly, “Turn out your pockets!”

Harry hesitated, brain still jarred by the accusations against his father.

“Turn out your pockets, or we go straight to the headmaster!” Snape said again.

Harry pulled out the bag of Zonko’s tricks and the Marauder’s Map.

Snape picked up the bag from Zonko’s.

“Ron gave them to me,” Harry said quickly. “I wanted some snacks for studying.”

Snape didn’t look like he believed Harry. He picked up the Marauder’s Map and turned it over. “And what is this?”

Harry’s heart felt like it was going to hammer its way right out of his chest. He hoped Snape couldn’t hear it. “Spare bit of parchment,” he said as evenly as he could. “I was writing an essay.”

“Surely you weren’t going to turn in an essay on such an old piece of parchment.”

“It was for notes.”

Snape looked over the blank piece of paper and raised his eyebrows. “Notes,” he repeated, voice full of disbelief. “Or is it, perhaps, instructions on getting into Hogsmeade without passing the dementors?”

Harry said nothing.

Snape smoothed the parchment out on his desk and pressed the tip of his wand to the parchment. “Reveal your secrets.”

Harry thought that sounded like a pretty poor revealing spell, and for a moment nothing happened.

“Show yourself!” Snape tried again.

Harry was beginning to feel pretty confident that the map’s secrets were safe until Snape said, “Professor Severus Snape, master of this school, commands you to yield the information you conceal!”

Harry knew he was done for. He was sure there were safeguards specifically against Snape, and sure enough, in what was obviously Uncle Remus’s handwriting, the Map read, _Mr. Moony presents his compliments to Professor Snape, and begs him to keep his abnormally large nose out of other people’s business._

Snape froze, and Harry fervently prayed that would be the end of it. But of course it wasn’t.

_Mr. Prongs agrees with Mr. Moony, and would like to add that Professor Snape is an ugly git._

If Harry hadn’t been in so much trouble already, he would’ve been laughing. But as it was, his heart was completely still.

_Mr. Padfoot would like to register his astonishment that an idiot like that ever became a professor._

_Mr. Wormtail bids Professor Snape good day, and advises him to wash his hair, the slimeball._

Harry closed his eyes, waiting for Snape to fly into a rage and blame him. But Snape didn’t say anything to Harry. He grabbed a jar from the fireplace and threw glittering dust into the flames.

“Lupin!” he shouted. “I want a word!”

Harry’s heart sank into his stomach. Not just because Uncle Remus would know it was a map and would probably confiscate it, but because now Remus had to endure Snape’s temper a week before the full moon.

But Remus came out of the fireplace almost immediately, dusting the ash off of his robes. “You called, Severus?” he said, looking not at all irritated by the interruption. Harry would forever be in awe of Remus’s endless patience.

“I certainly did,” Snape said, his face a picture of fury as he shoved the parchment at Remus. “I have just asked Potter to empty his pockets. He was carrying this.”

Remus looked over the parchment, still glistening with the insults. He looked curiously at Harry, then at the parchment.

“Well?” Snape said. “This parchment is plainly full of Dark Magic. This is supposed to be your area of expertise, Lupin. Where do you imagine Potter got such a thing?”

Remus looked like he was trying hard not to laugh as he said, “Dark Magic? Honestly, Severus, it looks as though it’s a parchment meant to insult the reader. Childish, but not dangerous, you think? I imagine it’s from a joke shop--”

“A joke shop? You don’t think it more likely that he got it directly from the _manufacturers_?”

Remus’s face was a carefully crafted smile of bemusement. “You mean by Mr. Wormtail or one of these people? Harry, do you know any of these men?”

“No,” Harry said quickly.

Snape’s eyes narrowed. “You mean to tell me you don’t even know your father’s own nicknames for his friends?”

Harry mirrored Remus’s surprise. “I can’t imagine my father ever being friends with someone who had the nickname Wormtail.” Which was, in Harry's opinion, true.

Suddenly, Ron and Neville burst into Snape’s office, panting.

“We were studying,” Neville said between breaths, “in the library. Vampires.”

“I gave Harry that stuff,” Ron added, “Bought it in Zonko’s. Ages ago.”

“That seems to clear that up,” Remus said, tucking the map into his robes with a smile. “Harry, Ron, Neville, I’m so glad you mentioned that vampire essay. I have a few things to show you--Do excuse us, Severus.” And he quickly ushered his students out of Snape’s office.

No one said anything as they all trooped to Professor Lupin’s office. Harry wondered if he was in for another scolding, and he was pretty sure he would deserve this one. Did he deserve to be in trouble for throwing mud at Malfoy? Certainly not. But in trouble for sneaking out when his parents were working so hard to keep him safe? Yeah, he probably deserved for Remus to write home and have his mum send a Howler back to him.

“I don’t want any explanations,” Remus said the minute they were back in his office. “I don’t want to know how this map fell into your possession, and I don’t want to know how long you’ve been using it. I am, however, astounded you didn’t hand it in. And no, of course you can’t have it back.”

“I was going to turn it in,” Harry said glumly.

“Really? When?”

“Whenever you caught me with it.” As the words came out of his mouth, they sounded worse than if he’d just said he hadn’t meant to turn it in at all.

Remus shook his head. “All three of you know the danger that Regulus Black poses. I expect more of you.”

“Yessir,” Neville squeaked.

"I'm sorry, Sir," Ron said quickly.

Remus sighed and sank into a chair behind his desk. “I will not cover for you again. But go off and enjoy the rest of your Saturday. Next time, though, I will write home to your parents. All of whom I know quite well.”

Ron mumbled another apology and Neville quickly disappeared. Ron paused, waiting for Harry, but Harry had a few things he wanted to ask Remus before he left, so he motioned for Ron to go on without him.

Once Ron left, Remus closed his eyes and asked, “What is it, Harry?”

His voice sounded so weary, Harry regretted staying behind, but he knew Snape’s comments about his father were going to eat away at him if he didn’t ask someone right away.

“Snape said--”

“Professor Snape.”

“Professor Snape said that my dad almost killed him, and that when Dumbledore said Snape hated my dad for saving his life, it was only that my dad saved his life to get out of trouble. Is it true?”

Remus was quiet for a long time. Harry almost wondered if he’d fallen asleep. Then he said, “Severus knew for a while about my secret. At least he suspected. At one point, Sirius told him he’d find the answer to his suspicions under the Shrieking Shack, and told him the secret of how to get past the Whomping Willow.”

Harry didn’t need to hear the betrayal in Remus’s voice to know how much of a breach of trust that must’ve been. The Whomping Willow was a closely guarded secret that no one would tell even Harry, even now that the threat of a werewolf transformation was no longer relevant.

“Severus did as Sirius said, on the night of the full moon, and I--” Remus cleared his throat. “Well, I didn’t have the Wolfsbane Potion back then.”

Harry knew how terrified Remus was of biting someone. He remembered how careful Remus had been when Harry was small, as if Remus holding Harry was somehow more dangerous than Harry zipping across the county on a broomstick. He hadn’t thought much of it then, but now it weighed him down like a Pondictus Charm.

“Your father,” Remus continued, “found out what Sirius had done and stopped Severus. He saved all our lives that night, really.”

“I can’t imagine Sirius would do something like that,” Harry said. Something that awful to Snape, sure. Sirius had a mean streak when it came to people like Snape. But Harry couldn’t imagine Sirius breaking Remus’s trust that way. As terrible as Sirius was at keeping secrets, Sirius kept Remus’s so well. Or maybe Sirius did that now because he was making up for what he’d done then.

“Sirius was a very different person in those days,” Remus sighed and finally opened his eyes. “We were all different people in those days.” Remus looked at Harry with sad eyes, which wasn’t unusual for Remus, but there was something deeper in the sadness today that unnerved Harry, and made him regret beginning this conversation.

“Someday, Harry,” Remus started slowly, “you’ll grow up and you’ll realize all the silly things you did when you were young. I want you to know that the mistakes you make don’t make you a terrible person. You make choices for the right reasons. You have far more of your mother in you than you might realize. I know everyone compares you to James, but….”

“Mum always says Dad will do anything for his friends.”

Remus smiled, and it made Harry feel worlds better just to see that small upturn in Remus’s lips. “She’s right, of course, but your mother will do anything for her family. They’re both unfailingly loyal to the ones they love, and you are too. You should be proud of that.”

“I have a lot of you and Sirius in me too,” Harry said.

Remus laughed, and Harry felt his chest relax. “I hope not very much of either of us, for your sake. Now I believe you have an essay on vampires to write for me?”

“I’m halfway done,” Harry said.

“Then it sounds like you have half an essay to write. Go on. I’ll see you in class on Monday.”

Harry left, a little reluctantly, head still spinning with the conversation.

A series of fragmented stories slotted together in Harry’s brain: Remus and Sirius’s half-spoken fights. The way Sirius spoke about Snape, with mild amusement but a lot of cruelty. The way Snape had looked at Remus when he brought him his potion back in November, and the way Snape had looked at Sirius. It made a lot more sense now.

But he didn’t understand why Snape blamed his father for what Sirius had done. And he didn’t understand the way that Snape looked at his parents.

With these thoughts still buzzing in his head like a parade of Pixies, he made his way back to the Gryffindor common room. He didn’t quite get all the way to the portrait of the Fat Lady when Ron and Hermione came to meet him on the steps.

Harry looked at them in surprise, confused by the tears on Hermione’s cheeks. Had they fought over Scabbers again?

Then he saw Hermione holding a letter in her hands. Her lip trembled as she said, “Hagrid lost his case. Buckbeak is going to be executed.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, comments and headcanons appreciated. I love hearing your thoughts!


	15. The Quidditch Final

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gryffindor goes up against Ravenclaw for the Quidditch Cup.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter, and not too much in here. But that's okay. Think of it as the calm before the storm. A brief reprise, because from here on out, shit's gonna go down.

Dear Mum and Dad,

I can’t wait to see you at the Quidditch final. I’m nervous we won’t be able to win the cup, but it should be a good match. It’ll be nice to actually finish the season for once, though I suppose I shouldn’t jinx it.

I’ve never had so much school work, though! Electives are hard, and Quidditch practice nearly every night, and Remus is still helping me with the patronus charm, but we’ve had to take a break over the Easter holidays. Mostly I’m just glad that we don’t have to sit through class with Snape again, and Remus can get better without worrying about his classes.

Still, it hardly feels like a break. Teachers have us cramming for exams like crazy. Hermione’s just about to crack under the pressure, or she already has. She slapped Malfoy the other day. It was great, and he deserved it, but it was just surprising from her. Then she missed Charms class--said she just forgot to go--then she stormed out of Divination and I don’t think she’s ever going back to that class. I almost wish I’d quit with her, but I heard we do star charts next year, and I really want to learn about that. As long as Trelawney gets over predicting my death every class.

Do you guys have any influence in the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures? Hagrid seems really sure they’re going to decide to execute Buckbeak at the appeal, but Buckbeak didn’t actually do anything wrong. Malfoy was the one who provoked him. You guys know people at the Ministry, right? Can you fix it?

See you soon!

Love,

Harry

\--- --- ---

The morning of the Qudditch match arrived, and Harry woke up with his stomach in more knots than a captive hydra. He almost couldn’t believe he was actually going to be playing in the Quidditch final. His first year, he’d been hospitalized from his fight with Voldemort. His second year, the match had been canceled because Hermione and Penelope Clearwater had been attacked by the school’s resident basilisk.

Harry desperately prayed nothing would interrupt this year’s Quidditch final. He was afraid Oliver Wood might die of heartbreak if Gryffindor didn’t win the Quidditch cup.

It was still early, and Harry found himself unable to go back to sleep, so he got up for a drink of water. He glanced out the window to check the weather, and was pleased to find a clear, sunny day. The trees weren’t moving at all. A perfect day for a Quidditch game.

Then, just on the edge of the Forbidden Forest, Harry saw a large black dog. He frowned. What was Sirius doing out here? He had assumed Sirius would arrive with his parents, and there was no reason for them to be here this early. Was Sirius alright, running around the Hogwarts grounds with the dementors so close?

Then Harry saw Crookshanks and Llewellyn walk up beside Sirius. Were Llewellyn and Crookshanks friends now? What was Sirius doing with Ginny and Hermione’s cats? Harry briefly wondered if maybe that dog wasn’t Sirius at all, but a real over-sized black dog. Or maybe it was the actual Grim. But would either of those options be out for a morning stroll with some cats?

Harry watched the animals disappear over the hill near the Shrieking Shack. But Remus wouldn’t be there. The full moon wasn’t until Wednesday.

Harry took another drink of water and spent the rest of the morning puzzling over Sirius. Even when he went down to breakfast, he couldn’t get it off his mind. He nibbled on his toast half-heartedly. Wood arrived, looking almost as nervous as he had on the game the first day of the year. He repeated to Harry, as he had been all week, “Fifty points, remember. Don’t catch the Snitch unless--”

“Unless we’re up at least fifty points,” Harry said. “I remember.”

Ron sat next to him and clapped him on the shoulder, just after he took a sip of juice. Harry nearly spit it out on the table. He choked it down and wiped his chin.

“You’ll do fine, mate,” Ron said. “You can relax.”

Harry coughed and grinned at Ron. “Thanks.”

He wished he could tell Ron what he’d seen this morning, and what he was really concerned about, but that would mean explaining about Sirius, and then he’d have to explain why he hadn’t told Ron the truth about the Grim the other night.

Harry still wasn’t sure he could tell Ron about Remus. And besides, it wasn’t Harry’s secret to tell. It was Uncle Remus’s.

Lily and James arrived shortly after Harry and Ron had finished eating. James was just polishing off a chocolate bar as Harry ran to greet them.

“Good day for flying, eh?” James said as he pulled Harry into a hug.

“Should be,” Harry agreed. “Where’s Sirius at?”

“Came in with us from Hogsmeade,” James said, “but went to get Remus. I’m sure they’ll be along.”

“And how’s Ron?” Lily asked. “Molly asked us to be sure we checked in on him and Ginny, after that scare with Regulus Black.”

“I’m fine, Mrs. Potter,” Ron said, coming up behind Harry. “And Ginny’s fine, too. Flying and everything.”

“Flying?” Lily said with a raised eyebrow.

“Just an expression,” Harry quickly said. “Y’know, for doing well.”

Lily didn’t look convinced, and James looked impressed. It was obvious their lie hadn’t convinced anyone of anything.

Harry groped quickly for another line of conversation, but then he felt a light hand on his shoulder that sent a sort of electric shock down his spine.

“Good luck, Harry,” Cho Chang said, as she passed him, and smiled.

“You too,” Harry managed to stammer out. His tongue felt like lead and his stomach felt like he’d swallowed a doxy.

“Who’s that?” James asked with a twinkle in his eye, as they started towards the Entrance Hall.

“The Ravenclaw Seeker,” Harry managed to say. 

Lily hummed thoughtfully and James laughed, but quickly turned it into a cough. Harry didn’t know why, but he was embarrassed.

As soon as they were outside, he said, “I’m going to go change,” and ran for the locker room.

Lily linked her hand with James. “You know you used to look at me that way, in fifth year.”

“I believe at one point I told you your hair was red, because I couldn’t think of anything else to say,” James laughed.

Lily glanced over her shoulder at Ron, who had fallen in step with Neville, Ginny, Hermione, and a blonde girl Lily hadn’t met yet. She wondered where Dean and Seamus were, then she saw the boys coming up over the hill, carrying a large, rolled up sheet of paper.

Harry had good friends, she thought, and she was glad to know he was happy here at school. Even if she did have to worry, constantly, that he was in danger of dying, she didn’t have to worry about how happy he was. There was a wonderful relief in that, and she leaned her head affectionately on James’s shoulder.

He didn’t ask where her contented sigh came from, but wrapped an arm around her shoulder and squeezed.

They found Hagrid in the stands, and Lily told him she had spoken to everyone she knew at the Ministry, but she wasn’t sure what she could do for his hippogriff case. James offered his condolences.

Remus and Sirius arrived shortly. Remus looked wan, but they were just a few days from the full moon. Lily hoped the stress of teaching wasn’t making Remus’s condition any worse. 

“Remus,” James said, and leaned around Lily to ask quietly, “do you know who the Ravenclaw Seeker is?”

Remus had to think for a moment. “I believe it’s Cho Chang. She’s in fourth year. Struggles with Defense, but she’s come a long way this year, and Professor Flitwick praises her Charms, but I can’t tell you how good at Quidditch she is.”

“She rides a Comet 260,” Sirius laughed, gesturing to the field as the players came out of the locker rooms. “Harry will fly loops around her.”

But that didn’t seem to interest James, and Lily playfully nudged him with her elbow. “Let him be. If he likes, her he likes her.”

“I just wanted to know if we should get an extra ticket to the Quidditch World Cup this summer,” James said, as the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw captains shook hands.

“Harry has three tickets he can share with whomever he likes.”

This did not seem to ease James’s agitation any further, which amused Lily. She hadn’t expected James to get so involved in Harry’s first crush, and from Lily’s perspective, it didn’t even seem serious. Maybe James, who had been obsessed with one girl for seven years, didn’t understand the concept of passing fancies.

She pinched the underside of his arm gently. “Worry about the game, and let Harry worry about who he likes.”

“Ravenclaw’s currently in the lead by two hundred points,” Remus said, recognizing Lily’s effort to distract James. “So if they want to win the Cup as well as the game, Harry will have to wait to catch the Snitch.”

As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Harry shot straight towards the Slytherin goal posts. Cho followed immediately, and Sirius laughed.

Lily didn’t understand until Harry looped back around, then up, and then Cho drifted off of his heels. “He feinted,” she said with a laugh.

“They were only twenty points up,” James said. “He couldn’t catch the Snitch and he couldn’t let her catch it. It was a smart move.”

Lily was glad James’s mind was turned to the game, and she cheered loudly as Angelina Johnson scored.

It was nice to watch a game where Harry’s broom wasn’t jinxed, and the threat of dementors seemed minimal on such a lovely day. Still, she kept a hand on her wand inside her coat pocket, just in case, and the other one in James’s hand.

The score was seventy to twenty, Gryffindor leading, when Harry suddenly bolted upwards. Sirius and James jumped to their feet, Lily pulled with him, but Cho was suddenly between Harry and the Snitch and Harry swerved quickly to avoid hitting her.

Lily heard Oliver Wood yell something at Harry, but she couldn’t make out his words over all the cheering on the Ravenclaw side of the stadium.

She sat back down, but James and Sirius stayed standing, focused entirely on the game.

She took the quiet moment with Remus to ask how his classes were going.

“Well,” he said. “They’re remarkable students, really. Yesterday, Christian and Anne were silent dueling and it was really incredible. They’ve come such a long way. Just a few months ago, Anne could barely cast a silent Leviosa. Now she can compete against the seventh years with ease.”

“The Thelborne siblings? Good for them,” Lily said with a smile. “I hope they didn’t get too wild with each other. Christian can be rough with his sister.”

“Not at all. He has the makings of a professional dueler, really. And the first years are wonderful,” Remus continued. “Still so eager to learn. They’ve nearly caught up to where I started the second years. They’ll be able to get ahead for next year, which will be good for them, I think. The other students have had such a struggle with the scattered curriculum, but the first years are entirely unaffected.”

Lily listened to Remus and it almost made her miss teaching. Almost. She was happier at home with James than anywhere else, and she couldn’t imagine how she’d be doing with all this Regulus Black business if she was stuck at school, but she was glad to hear that Remus had taken so well to teaching. She’d always known he’d be good at it.

“I’m glad you’re enjoying it,” she finally said, as Remus finished telling her about the third years’ vampire essays.

“I really am,” he said, his cheeks a little pink. “I always thought, well--Dumbledore was desperate for a teacher. If the parents knew--”

“If the parents knew how much the teacher cared for their children, they’d be happy to have you there.”

Suddenly, the entire crowd was on their feet, and Lily and Remus stood too. Harry was on Cho Chang’s tail, both diving for the Snitch, just barely visible to the audience as a glimmer of gold in the grass.

Lily screamed encouragement to Harry until her throat hurt. His broom just barely eclipsed Cho’s as they approached the Snitch, then Harry turned up sharply, holding the Snitch in his hand over his head. Cho, broom unable to make such a sharp turn, skidded into the grass.

The crowds swamped the pitch. Lily, James, Remus, and Sirius all joined in, pushing their way through the crowd to congratulate Harry.

Oliver Wood was there, holding the Quidditch Cup, and with cheeks streaked with tears of joy, passed the cup to Harry.

Harry couldn’t stop smiling. He held the cup as high as he’d held the Snitch while Gryffindor cheered. He hugged each of his parents, and Sirius and Uncle Remus, and couldn’t think of a happier moment in his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and headcanons always appreciated!! <3


	16. Professor Trelawney's Prediction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The prelude to an oncoming disaster.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we go....

The excitement over winning the Quidditch Cup couldn’t last forever. Finals were fast-approaching, and Gryffindor tower soon turned as quiet as a library. Even Fred and George, who usually dealt with the stress of exams by causing trouble, could be found poring over notes and textbooks in preparation for their O.W.L.s.

Hermione, unsurprisingly, had the most to do. She had a corner of the common room, stacked with books and parchment. Crookshanks could often be found at her feet, his grumpy pout staring down anyone who came near her, which, oddly enough, no longer included Llewelyn. The two cats seemed to have settled their differences. When Ginny asked Hermione if she could borrow some ink, Llewelyn was right on her heels, and Crookshanks cooed at him, rather than hissed. Then the cats sniffed each other like old friends, and Llewelyn trotted off with Ginny.

When Harry remarked on this change to Ron, Ron only scoffed. “Not very good news for Scabbers, is it? I’ve had to keep him shut up in the dorm all year. He hates being cooped up. Been trying to slip out for weeks. Don’t know what I’ll do this summer. Mum would probably side with Ginny if Llewelyn got a hold of him.”

But summer seemed like a long way off. There was a long History of Magic essay to write, a tea kettle that needed transfiguring into a tortoise, and Cheering Charms to be performed.

The third-year Gryffindors’ last exam was Divination, which Harry was both grateful for and dreaded. It was one of his worst subjects, but at least it wasn’t an exam he could spend a lot of time studying for. After all, you either could or couldn’t see the future. Staring into an old tea cup wasn’t going to change anything.

That didn’t stop Lavender or Parvati from sticking their noses in their books and whispering to each other for hours on end. They often glanced sadly at Harry, which only proceeded to irritate him further, and make him less likely to study for Divination.

Harry ended up spending most of his time reviewing for Potions, but he felt he may have been better off trying to see Snape’s exam in a crystal ball for all the good studying did him when he was in the middle of his exam and his Confusing Concoction refused to thicken. He didn’t need prophetic visions to tell him Snape probably failed him.

Their last day of exams began with Defense Against the Dark Arts, which was unusually outdoors. Remus had set up an obstacle course that included a Grindylow in a puddle and a Boggart in a trunk. Harry passed perfectly.

Hermione, unfortunately, did not do quite so well. She came out of the trunk crying because McGonagall had told her she failed all of her classes. Ron and Harry both calmed her down on the walk back up to the castle.

At the Entrance Hall, they ran into the Minster of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, wearing a neat pinstripe cloak and his signature bright green bowling hat.

“Hello there, Harry,” the Minister said, as if they were old friends.

“Hello, Minister,” Harry answered, a little uncomfortably, because he did not think of the Minister as an old friend. “How do you do?”

“Ah, well, here on a bit of unpleasant business. Needed to check in on the Black business, so the Ministry asked me to step in as a witness. Execution of a mad hippogriff. Pity, really.”

Ron stepped forward. “So the appeal’s already happened?”

Minister Cornelius Fudge stared curiously at Ron, who was still covered in mud from his exam. Ron had gotten distracted by a hinkypunk and been led into a quagmire.

“No, no,” Fudge said. “It’s set for this afternoon.”

“Then maybe there won’t be an execution! The hippogriff might get off!” Ron said hotly.

The Minister seemed stunned and confused by this, until Hermione tugged Ron away by the elbow of his sleeve and Harry hastily said goodbye. 

While Ron cleaned up and Hermione went to her Muggle Studies final, Harry sat down in the common room and opened up _Unfogging the Future_. He didn’t really read it, just sort of stared at it.

Harry was just about to give up on the book when the portrait of the Fat Lady swung open and a group of second years shuffled in. Some of them looked incredibly dejected, and one had a thick green glob in her hair, so Harry could only assume they’d come from Potions or Herbology.

Ginny was at the back of the group, fussing with her bag.

Harry wondered if he should say something to her, maybe ask her how the test went, but she always got so shy when she talked to him, he thought maybe he should let her just go upstairs. Also, it was definitely awkward knowing that she liked him.

She finished tightening the strap on her bag and then looked around the common room. Her eyes glanced over Harry and quickly looked away. Then she found her cat, sitting underneath one of the chairs.

“What’re you hiding in there for?” she asked. “Come on out.”

But her cat refused to move and even scratched her when she tried to pull him out.

“Oh, fine,” she scolded. “Just stay there, then. But if you try to go upstairs and get at Scabbers again, Ron will be really upset with me.”

Harry really felt like he should say something, but now he didn’t know what. Then Ginny disappeared upstairs to her dormitory, and his opportunity was gone.

Ron came downstairs in a clean set of robes.

“Should we get Divination over with?” he asked.

Harry set the book down. “Yeah.” He watched as Llewelyn slipped behind Ron and up the stairs. “Um….”

“What is it?”

“You shut the door behind you, right?”

“Yeah, can’t have Scabbers getting out. Why?”

“It’s nothing,” Harry said. “Let’s go.”

\--- --- ---

Divination was as rubbish as Harry expected. Professor Trelawney took them all individually and asked them to tell her what they saw in a crystal ball.

Ron said he saw nothing, and made a bunch of things up, so Harry figured he may as well do the same.

He told Trelawney that he saw a hippogriff, and she got excited. Then he told her the hippogriff was free and flying away and she deflated. Harry didn’t know if it was because the outcome of Buckbeak’s trial was so certain to everyone else or if it was because she simply didn’t like happy endings.

She sighed and said, “Well, dear, I think we’ll leave it there…. A little disappointing, but…. I’m sure you tried your best.”

Harry, just glad it was over, reached down for his bag, and when Trelawney spoke again, in a deep, harsh voice, he came back up so fast he hit his head on the edge of the round table.

_“It will happen tonight.”_

Harry rubbed the side of his head and stared at Professor Trelawney. Was she trying to terrify him? Because, honestly, it was kind of working.

“S-sorry?” Harry said.

Professor Trelawney’s gaze didn’t change. She stared past him, then her eyes drifted upwards, back into her head, and Harry leapt off the pouf he’d been sitting on. He was just about to run for Madam Pomfrey or maybe Uncle Remus, because surely this was scary enough to be Dark Arts, when she spoke again.

_“The Dark Lord lies alone and friendless, abandoned by his followers. His servant has been chained these twelve years. Tonight, before midnight.... the servant will break free and set out to rejoin his master. The Dark Lord will rise again with his servant’s aid, greater and more terrible than ever he was. Tonight... before midnight... the servant... will set out... to rejoin... his master….”_

Her head dropped and hung limply on her chest. Harry scrambled away from her. Then she lifted her head suddenly, and Harry was prepared to run at the sign of the whites of her eyes, but she looked perfectly normal--well, at least she looked like she usually looked. She blinked a few times then said, in her usual dreamy voice, “Oh, I’m so sorry. I drifted off for a moment….”

Harry could only stare at her.

“What’s the matter, dear?”

“You--” Harry tried to find his voice, but it seemed to be cowering somewhere deep inside him. He cleared his throat. “You just told me that the Dark Lord’s going to rise again. That his servant’s going back to him, tonight.”

Professor Trelawney blinked. “The Dark Lord? He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named? I wouldn’t presume to predict anything as far-fetched as that! Goodness. Perhaps you also dozed off.”

Harry shook his head, but it was clear Professor Trelawney didn’t understand what had happened. As he climbed back down the ladder, he briefly wondered if she had just been ending his final on a dramatic note, to make up for the fact that he’d predicted Buckbeak flying away. But Harry also didn’t think Professor Trelawney was the sort to make predictions about Voldemort lightly.

So Harry ran to Uncle Remus’s office.

Remus was just returning to his office, and he looked very tired, but he smiled at Harry. “Well, hello. All finished with exams, now?”

“Yes, I just finished Divination.” Harry tried not to look like he was breathing too hard, but concern suddenly crossed Remus’s face, already thin and pale with the waxing moon.

“Do you need to come in?” he asked.

“Er, please, if I can.”

“Of course, Harry,” and Uncle Remus opened the door. As soon as the door was closed and locked again, Uncle Remus asked, “Did something happen in your Potions final?”

“Potions? Er, no, that was yesterday.”

“Oh.” A bit of relief crossed Remus’s face and he motioned for Harry to sit in one of the chairs by the fireplace. Harry did so, and Remus sat down across from him. “If you’d like me to try to help Hagrid, I’m afraid there’s nothing I can do for Buckbeak.”

“It isn’t that,” Harry said, though he briefly wondered if Remus knew the outcome of the appeal. It would have happened during his Divination exam.

“Then if you’re here to check on me, I promise you, I’ll be perfectly alright tonight. Moonrise is late; summers are easiest, you know. Still, your father insisted on coming up, even though we’ll all be headed back in just a couple of days.”

“It isn’t that, either,” Harry said, “though, I am glad Dad’s coming. But it’s--it’s different. I just came from Divination,” and he told Remus what Professor Trelawney had said about the Dark Lord rising. “I don’t think she knew she was saying it,” Harry said. “That’s not the sort of thing one just says, is it? Even if it is Professor Trelawney.”

Uncle Remus’s face seemed clouded. He had his hand over his mouth and his brow furrowed. “I think you’re right, and she gave a true prophecy. They’re quite rare.” Uncle Remus’s eyes seemed to linger on Harry’s scar, but it was brief, and then Uncle Remus stood. “I’ll tell Professor Dumbledore immediately. And Harry… I think the meaning of this prophecy is very clear. Please stay in your dormitory tonight.”

Harry knew what Remus meant. Of course the prophecy was about Regulus Black. But was his dormitory even safe? “So, you think Regulus Black will be leaving Hogwarts?”

“Yes,” Remus said in a heavy voice. “But I think it means that whatever he came here to do, he will accomplish before midnight tonight. Harry, I cannot stress enough the danger this could mean for you, or for Neville.”

“I know,” Harry said. “And… Mum and Dad….”

“I’ll have to convince your father to stay at home tonight. Don’t worry. Nothing will happen to them. Just promise me nothing will happen to you, either.”

“I’ll make an excuse to Neville to make sure he stays in the dorm,” though Harry was pretty sure that Neville wasn’t the type to break school rules to run around the grounds at night. “We’ll stay inside. I promise.”

Uncle Remus nodded and stood. “I’ll speak with Dumbledore now. You get upstairs.”

Harry grabbed his bag and walked back to Gryffindor tower as quickly as he could. His heart pounded in his chest and his head felt warm. He didn’t know why he was so terrified. Was it because of what had happened to Ron? Because of the way Trelawney had given her prophecy? Or maybe because deep down, Harry had still believed that Regulus Black had tried to defy Voldemort, and now Professor Trelawney made it very clear that Regulus Black would aid the Dark Lord’s return. Harry couldn’t think there were any questions he had for Regulus Black that needed answering anymore.

He reached Gryffindor tower, said the password for the Fat Lady, and stepped inside. He’d only just dropped his bag onto an empty armchair when Hermione and Ron rushed him. 

Harry had barely opened his mouth to tell them what had happened with Professor Trelawney when Ron said, “Buckbeak lost.”

Harry’s throat went dry. “No, that isn’t right.”

“Hagrid sent a note,” Hermione said. “Buckbeak’s set to be executed at sunset.” Her voice broke and she bit down on her lower lip to keep it from trembling.

“We should go see him,” Ron said. “He can’t be alone at a time like this.”

Harry didn’t know if Ron meant Buckbeak or Hagrid, but either way, he agreed. He wanted to be there with Hagrid, but he remembered his promise to Remus.

“We shouldn’t. It’ll be dark soon,” Harry said.

“We can take the Invisibility Cloak,” Hermione said. “We won’t get caught.”

Ron and Harry both gaped at her.

“I don’t know what’s gotten into you, Hermione,” said Ron. “First you hit Malfoy, then you walk out on Professor Trelawney, and now you’re suggesting we use the cloak to sneak around the grounds?”

Hermione’s cheeks turned pink. “We ought to be there for Hagrid.”

Harry remembered what Remus had said, about being like his mother and his father. He knew what his parents would want him to do--stay inside, stay safe. But he wondered what they would do if they had found out about Buckbeak. He thought about his father, who was supposed to stay with Remus tonight during the full moon. Harry wondered if James would stay at home with Lily, where he would be safe from Regulus Black, or if he would insist on staying with Remus, because helping a friend was more important. He felt like he knew the answer. 

“Alright,” Harry said, “let’s go see Hagrid.”

\--- --- ---

After dinner, Harry, Ron, and Hermione sneaked out to Hagrid’s hut. Hagrid was both pleased to see them and incredibly frustrated with them.

“We’ll go back before dark,” Harry promised as Hagrid put on tea for them.

Hagrid didn’t scold them again, and grabbed the jar of milk for the tea. But in his anxious state, dropped it and spilled the milk everywhere. Hermione quickly got up to help, and Hagrid sat down and wiped his eyes.

“Good o’ you to come,” he said weakly. “But I don’ wan’ yeh watchin’.”

“We’ll leave before Fudge and Dumbledore arrive,” Harry said. He meant it, too. He felt bad enough breaking his promise to Uncle Remus as it was.

Hermione set out a new jug of milk and hastily wiped her tear-stained cheeks. “We just didn’t want you to be alone,” she said.

Hagrid blew his nose into his sleeve. “Yer good kids, you are.”

Even with their grief, Ron’s ears turned red at the compliment. Harry felt like his stomach was trying to crawl it’s way out of his throat.

Suddenly, Hagrid stood up, eyes fixed on the window. “Yeh gotta go,” he said.

Harry looked out and saw Cornelius Fudge, Dumbledore, a very old man with a cane, and a larger man with an axe over his shoulder.

Hermione quickly threw the cloak over them and they slipped out the back entrance.

The sky was orange as Harry hurried them back up to the castle. He wanted to get inside before they got caught. He wondered if Remus had left for the cottage in Hogsmeade yet. He saw someone come out of the castle, but it seemed too small to be Remus.

“That’s Neville,” Ron whispered. “What’s he doing, leaving now?”

Harry’s heart started to race. He hadn’t had a chance to warn Neville. If Neville was outside now--

Harry abandoned the cloak and ran after Neville.

“Harry, what are you--” but the rest of Hermione’s voice was lost to Harry.

He reached Neville just on the edge of the forest and grabbed his shoulder. “Neville, you shouldn’t be out here!”

Neville nearly jumped out of his skin and stifled a scream. “Merlin, Harry, I thought you might be Regulus Black. What are you doing out of the castle?”

“Me? What are you doing?”

Ron and Hermione, ran up to them, cloak abandoned. Hermione tucked the cloak into her bag. “We need to get back inside,” she said.

“Scabbers got out,” Neville said quickly. “I just wanted to find him before you guys got back.”

Ron’s jaw dropped. “Got out? How?”

“I just opened the dormitory door to grab a book for Ginny, and I forgot to close it again, and he got downstairs. Then Dean and Seamus came in from the portrait, and he bolted. I chased him all the way out here, but it’s getting dark.”

Harry imagined Neville wandering off into the Forbidden Forest, looking for Scabbers, and running into Regulus Black. Scabbers was important, but not at a time like this.

“Scabbers will be alright,” Harry said.

“What? Harry, it’s nearly end of term,” Ron said, voice desperate. “We have to find him before--”

Suddenly there was a loud swish and the dull thud of an axe in the earth, from the direction of Hagrid’s hut.

Hermione stifled a sob.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and headcanons appreciated as always! And PLEASE ask questions. I want to make sure all questions get answered and I haven't left anything out, because essentially this book is done, I just need to make some minor revisions over the next few weeks, and I want to make sure I get everything in the chapters that needs to be in them.


	17. Cat, Rat, Dog

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scabbers' identity is finally revealed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas all <3 here is my gift to you. At least one of many questions answered! And probably a lot more questions asked....

“What was that?” Neville asked, staring in the direction of Hagrid’s hut, where the sound of an axe hitting the earth had come from.

“Nothing,” Harry said quickly, because he really didn’t want to explain about Buckbeak just now. He wanted to get inside where it was probably safe. Professor Trelawney’s prophecy and his promise to Remus were still ringing in his ears. “Let’s get back into the castle.”

“And just leave Scabbers?” Ron asked.

“He’ll be fine,” Harry insisted.

“All summer?”

Before Harry could explain that he was worried about Regulus Black, and that should trump their worry for Scabbers, a small squeak sent Neville and Ron running up the nearest hill, along the edge of the forest.

“Wait!” Hermione called after them, but they didn’t hear her.

A black cat darted between Harry’s legs and ran after Ron and Neville. Harry could not think of a worse time for Llewelyn to show up to chase Scabbers. He tried to grab the cat’s tail, but it slipped between his fingers.

Hermione ran after Llewelyn, and, reluctantly, Harry followed.

He reached the top of the hill and found Neville, flat on his back as if he had slipped, and Ron, lying face first in the grass, trying to keep a hold on Scabbers, while keeping Llewelyn at bay.

“Llewelyn, no!” Hermione scolded, and tried to grab the cat.

Harry was about to go help her when he saw a huge, black, hulking dog appear on the edge of the forest.

“Sirius?” he said, completely shocked. Had Sirius come to get Remus instead of James? But then why was he here and not in Hogsmeade?

Just as Hermione pulled Llewelyn away from Ron, the dog jumped at Ron and pushed its snout underneath Ron, jaws snapping at Ron’s hands.

Harry couldn’t understand what Sirius might be doing. Was it even Sirius?

When Ron would not relinquish Scabbers, the dog bit Ron’s wrist and pulled Ron. Harry jumped forward and managed to grab the dog’s thick black fur. Now he was sure the dog was Sirius. He’d clung to this fur often enough in his thirteen years to recognize it. But it didn’t help him understand what was happening any better.

“What are you doing?” he shouted as he tried to pull Sirius off of Ron.

But Sirius was strong and his jaws were clamped tightly around Ron’s arm as he dragged Ron and Harry. Harry was vaguely aware of Neville and Hermione shouting behind him when something hit him hard in the chest and knocked him flat on his back. He sat up, trying to make his lungs work properly again, and he saw the branch that he had hit--or rather, the branch that had lashed out and hit him. Sirius had led him straight to the Whomping Willow, and now he was dragging Ron underneath it.

Neville and Hermione came up behind him, panting.

“That thing’s going to eat him!” said Neville, face pale and hands shaking.

“We’ve got to get a teacher,” Hermione said.

“There’s no time,” Harry said. He looked to Hermione to see if she had an answer, but she was only clutching at her chest and staring desperately at the Whomping Willow. Harry knew there was a secret to opening it, but he couldn’t imagine what it was. They could go to the Shrieking Shack through Hogsmeade, but that would mean passing the dementors, and it was unlikely they could get into the shack through the outside.

Harry glanced at the reddening sun. He wondered if Remus was alright, and if his father was with Remus, or if something had gone horribly wrong and that was why Sirius was dragging Ron away.

Harry tried taking a step forward, but the Willow knocked him back again. “There’s a trick to get past it,” he said. “I know there is.”

Then Llewelyn darted forward, between the branches, and pushed his paws against a knot in the tree. The branches suddenly hung limp.

Harry tried not to be offended that a strange cat knew the secret and he didn’t. Instead, he rushed forward, reasoning that inside the Shrieking Shack with Sirius had to be safer than on the grounds without an adult.

At the base of the trunk was a tunnel-like passage, like the one behind the witch statue. Harry slid down, and a few seconds later, Neville and Hermione followed.

“Where are we?” Neville asked.

Harry raised his wand. “Lumos.”

“Where does this tunnel go?” asked Hermione as they started walking forward. Llewelyn was nowhere in sight.

“The Shrieking Shack,” Harry answered.

“How do you know?”

“It’s on the map,” Harry said, which was partially true. Part of the tunnel was on the map.

“What was that thing that took Ron?” Neville asked nervously. “It-it looked like the-the--”

“It wasn’t the Grim,” Harry said firmly.

“What was it then?” and when her voice shook, Harry realized that even Hermione was terrified.

He probably wouldn’t have told them Sirius’s secret otherwise, but he wanted to ease their fears, so he said, “It’s Sirius. He’s an Animagus.” And anyway, it wasn’t like he could keep it a secret after what Sirius had just done.

“That’s not possible, though,” Hermione said. “And--even if he was, why would Sirius Black take Ron?”

“Something must’ve happened,” Harry said. “Maybe he knows something about Regulus Black, or something happened to Uncle Remus or--” A long list of possibilities ran through Harry’s mind. He wasn’t entirely sure, but he had to trust that Sirius knew what he was doing.

At the end of the tunnel, a bit of waning sunlight filtered through a wooden trap door. Harry pushed up on it, and Hermione caught the sleeve of his robe.

“Harry--do you think--perhaps, if it really was Sirius Black, he’s been cursed? Maybe Regulus Black’s gotten to him, and that’s how he’s been getting in and out of the castle. Regulus Black nearly killed Ron once, and what if--”

Hermione didn’t finish her sentence, and Harry didn’t want to finish the thought. He knew Sirius had been acting strangely these last few months, and he thought about the time he and Ron had seen Sirius wandering the grounds, on the night of a full moon, when he should’ve been with Remus.

“Can you really do that?” Neville asked. “Curse someone into doing what you want?”

“Keep your wands out,” Harry said, in as brave a voice as he could muster, and climbed up into the Shrieking Shack.

The shack was, in fact, everything Harry had expected it to be. There was enough dust to coat a mausoleum, and the furniture was smashed to pieces. Wallpaper was torn in huge gashes, and Harry had to step over a table leg with giant bite marks in it.

“Did that dog do this?” Hermione wondered, her voice barely a whisper.

Harry was about to tell her no, when raised voices upstairs distracted him.

One was clearly Sirius--“This isn’t about them. You need to be more careful.”

And the reply was also Sirius--”He deserves to die. He’s supposed to be dead.”

Harry honestly couldn’t tell them apart. He put a finger to his lips as he, Hermione, and Neville started up the stairs.

“First, we clear your name,” Sirius said.

The other Sirius laughed, and now it was clear that it wasn’t Sirius at all. The laugh held neither humor nor bitterness. It was simply intended to point out something absurd, and there was no emotion behind it. “Even without his crimes, I’ve done enough for a life sentence in Azkaban.”

Harry pushed open the door and saw that not only did it sound like two Siriuses talking, it looked like two Siriuses talking.

One was the Sirius that Harry knew--tall, broad-shouldered, high cheekbones, and sharp eyebrows that switched between rage and mirth as easily as a wizard changed his hat.

The other had the same build, with slightly smaller shoulders, and the same sharp face, except where Sirius’s was always full of energy and honest expression of emotion, this Sirius looked like the world could either burst or burnt around him, and he would watch without flinching. It could only be Regulus Black.

But it also wasn’t the Regulus Black that Harry had seen in the Daily Prophet. That Regulus had been gaunt, with heavy shadows under his eyes, and a wild look to him. This Regulus looked like he’d had a few baths and full meals. He was groomed in a way Harry didn’t expect for someone on the run.

Harry tightened his grip on his wand, unsure if he would need to use it on Sirius or not. Could he use it on Sirius?

Ron was sitting on an old bed that was broken in the middle. He held his injured arm and Scabbers against his chest. Hermione immediately ran over to him, ignoring the two Black brothers.

“Y-you--” Neville stammered from behind Harry. “You’re him--”

Regulus Black stared at Neville with an unreadable expression. “Neville Longbottom, isn’t it? I take it you’re here to right the wrong done to your parents? Allow me to introduce you to the man who orchestrated the crime.”

Regulus Black raised his wand at Ron and Harry jumped between them.

“No!” Harry said, and Regulus Black froze, wand half-raised, jaw open with a spell halfway across his tongue.

“How extraordinarily like James Potter you are,” Black said in a quiet voice, like a thought he hadn’t meant to voice aloud.

Harry did not find this comment flattering or offensive. He knew it simply as a truth, and he didn’t care whether Regulus Black meant it the way Lily meant it, or meant it the way Snape meant it. “Sirius,” he said, without taking his eyes off of Regulus, “tell me what’s happening.”

“Regulus didn’t torture Alice and Frank,” Sirius said. “He didn’t kill the Bones or the McKinnons or any of them. He was falsely accused.”

“Liar!” Neville said. “You were there! After two years, you came back, just to torture them, because, because--”

“Neville, calm down,” Sirius said.

“He’s a Death Eater! He killed Muggles and witches and wizards and--” Neville broke off and tried to steady his shaking wand hand.

“I won't deny that I did terrible things in the service of the Dark Lord,” Regulus Black said. “But I did not harm your parents. Not that night, at least.”

“E-expelliarumus,” Neville stammered.

The spell did nothing, but Regulus held up his hands in surrender. “Just listen.”

“Sirius told me you were an excellent liar,” Harry said sharply. “Why should we believe anything you say?”

“Because I believe him,” Sirius said slowly.

This caught Harry off-guard. He carefully lowered his wand.

“No,” Neville said, his voice nearly a sob. “No, you’re lying. Or--or--you’re cursed! Hermione said so.”

Before Harry could argue with Neville, footsteps creaked in the shack below.

“We’re up here!” Hermione shouted. “Help!”

The door burst open in a shower of red sparks and Remus Lupin stepped into the dingy room. He saw Regulus Black, wand in no position to attack or defend, and Neville’s wand pointed at his chest. Hermione was with Ron, and Harry and Sirius stood side-by-side, wands lowered.

“Sirius, what have you done?” Remus asked, and leveled his wand at Sirius.

“He didn’t do it,” Sirius said quickly. “Regulus is my brother, but he isn’t like my family.”

“I did some of it,” Regulus said quietly. “I only came to make one of those wrongs right.”

“It was Barty,” Sirius said. “Barty Crouch, Jr. He’s the one who tortured Frank and Alice and blamed it all on Reg--”

“Barty Crouch died in Azkaban twelve years ago,” Remus said, but there was a strange glint in his eyes, like he was waiting for Sirius to contradict him, like he wanted Sirius to contradict him. Harry noticed, too, the way Remus kept glancing around the room, like he was looking for another person.

“Barty and Regulus were like James and I,” Sirius said.

“Thick as thieves. I remember.”

“No, like Prongs and Padfoot. Barty, he’s--”

“Ow! Scabbers, no!” Ron said suddenly, as the weasel finally wriggled its way out of his hands and ran for the door.

Sirius and Regulus both lunged for him. They collided with each other and fell the floor, and it was Remus who pointed his wand at Scabbers. There was a blue light, and suddenly the lanky weasel began to stretch, and in mid-air, as he leaped for the stairs, he turned into a very tall, slender young man who landed flat on his chest on the dusty hardwood floor.

Regulus Black pressed his wand against the back of the man’s neck. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t kill you, Barty.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and headcanons always appreciated. Leave me something nice for Christmas. And please ask any questions you desperately need answered in the coming chapters. I want to make sure I hit them all.


	18. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs

Regulus Black pushed Barty Crouch, Jr., formerly known as Scabbers the Weasel, against the ground and kept his wand at his neck. Despite threatening Barty’s life, Regulus appeared calm and clear-headed, but something in him reminded Harry of the way Remus looked the day after a full moon.

Barty Crouch struggled to get out of Regulus’s grip. “Go ahead,” he snarled. “I doubt you could even cast an Unforgivable, you coward--you traitor! Mudblood-lover--”

Regulus opened his mouth for a curse, but Sirius yanked Regulus off of Barty. Remus pinned Barty to the ground instead, and looked up to Sirius for answers.

Neville was still shaking, and his lips seemed to be trying to form a spell, but Harry couldn’t begin to imagine which one.

“B-but he can’t be an Animagus,” Hermione repeated for the third time that day, even as she stared at Barty Crouch, who had just been a weasel a moment ago. “You have to register with the Ministry, and they have to approve it, and record it, and the Ministry would know if Barty Crouch, Jr. was an Animagus!”

Harry might’ve laughed if the situation weren’t so serious. “Actually, Hermione….”

“There used to be three unregistered Animagus at Hogwarts,” Remus said.

“Five,” Regulus corrected. His wand-arm was tensed underneath Sirius’s grip, but he made no move to break free, unlike Barty, who was still struggling to get away from Remus.

“I imagine you all learned quite a bit from Snape’s essay,” Remus said.

“You said that essay wasn’t required,” Ron said.

“I did it, though,” Hermione said. “And--yes, I did.” She paused, as if she was looking for someone else to give the answer instead. When no one else volunteered, she asked, “But what does that have to do with Animagi?”

Sirius looked curiously at Harry. “You haven’t told them? About Remus or us?”

Harry shook his head. “Of course not. I meant to talk to Hermione about it, when I realized she’d learned, but--”

“Learned what?” Ron asked. “What are you all talking about?”

“All of us are Animagi,” Sirius said with a tight smile. “All unregistered, kept secret from the Ministry. I didn’t know Regulus had the talent for it.”

“You know I would have dared to try anything you did,” Regulus said.

Harry frowned. “But Sirius, how did you know Regulus was an Animagus? How long have you known?”

Sirius looked a little guilty as he said, “I had a suspicion in January, when we took you to King’s Cross. Ginny Weasley’s cat--he had a white mark across his chest. I gave Regulus a similar scar during one of our nastier fights as children. It was something small, but I couldn’t ignore my suspicion, so I came to Hogwarts to investigate. I expected to find Regulus and turn him in, but, well, that letter stuck with me.” Sirius looked uncomfortable, suddenly--apologetic, the way he’d looked when Harry had unwrapped the Firebolt. “You were right, Harry. There was something honest in those words, and when Regulus told me his story, that he’d escaped to capture Barty Crouch, I knew I had to help.”

“So it was you I saw, the night before the Quidditch match,” Ron said, mouth hanging open. “Not the Grim at all. And--Harry, you just pretended not to see him?”

Harry shrugged. “An unregistered Animagus is a serious crime. We don’t really talk about it.”

“But why aren’t you registered?” Hermione asked. “It’s dangerous to learn without proper supervision, and while you were still underage!”

“We did it because It was the only way we could keep Remus safe,” Sirius said. “But I don’t know how Regulus learned.”

Regulus Black’s voice was distant, but something in it felt cold, like he was reminiscing on a memory filled with bitterness he didn’t have the words to express. “You left home,” he said to Sirius, “and I went through your things. I wanted to understand. I wanted to know why you did what you did. I found your notes on becoming an Animagus. I didn’t know what they were at first, but they were so detailed I thought they had to be a clue. Barty helped me interpret them, and it wasn’t long before we knew we had to try it for ourselves.”

“Try what?” Ron demanded.

“Try to become Animagi,” Regulus Black answered. “Like Sirius. Like his friends.”

“I did what I did to protect a friend,” Sirius snapped. “James, Peter, and I did it to help Remus, so he wouldn’t be alone during the full moon, not because of some--”

Barty Crouch suddenly writhed under Remus’s hands. “You, you’re--Let me go,” he shouted. “Don’t touch me, you--you half-breed--mutt--werewolf!”

Sirius released his hold on Regulus and grabbed Barty by the back of his neck. “Don’t you ever--”

“It’s alright, Sirius,” Remus said quietly.

“But it isn’t,” Harry said, knowing how often Remus and his parents had had this fight.

Ron scrambled backwards on the bed. Even Neville stepped away and tightened a grip on his wand.

“Y-you’re a--a w-werewolf?” Ron stammered the word out like something of a yelp.

Harry shot them a sharp glare, and Neville swallowed something that looked about the size of a Snitch.

Remus cleared his throat. “Honestly, Hermione, I’m surprised you’re the only student who figured it out. And I’m surprised you didn’t tell anyone.”

“I didn’t know that Harry knew,” she said quietly. “I thought….” She glanced between Ron and Neville, who looked properly terrified of the monster from the horror stories they’d been raised on. “I didn’t think I should,” she finally finished.

“B-but how are you a teacher?” Neville asked. “Dumbledore wouldn’t--”

“Dumbledore has trusted me for many, many years,” Remus said. “He’s the reason I was able to attend Hogwarts in the first place. I was bitten when I was very young, and my parents never dreamed I’d be able to go to school. Dumbledore made this arrangement. The Shrieking Shack would be warded, protected, a safe place for a young werewolf to transform, and the passage protected by the Whomping Willow. No one would know. But James and Sirius, ever inquisitive, with insatiable curiosities, and a strong desire to protect their friends, not unlike yourselves, discovered my secret. They weren’t satisfied with Dumbledore’s arrangement. They didn’t like that I was alone, that I could hurt myself during the full moon. So they invented their own solution. They became Animagi, at the age of fifteen and sixteen, just so I could have someone with me. I was able to transform in the forest, and with Sirius there as a dog, and our friend Peter as a rat, small enough to get to the knot on the tree without getting hurt, we were able to explore. It’s where they got their nicknames--Padfoot and Wormtail. James was Prongs, and Sirius gave me the unfortunate nickname of Moony.”

“The Marauder’s Map?” Ron said. “That’s yours?”

“Partially,” Remus said with a small smile.

“But you’re a teacher,” Hermione said.

“I wasn’t then. And of course, I know now that what we did was reckless, and dangerous, but…. I never felt more like myself during a full moon than when they were with me. It made it hard to be responsible when the reward for irresponsibility was so high.”

Harry had never heard Remus talk about it his transformations so blatantly before. He’d heard the stories, of course, but James and Sirius provided most of the details, while Remus sat quietly and occasionally reminded Harry not to do some of the things James and Sirius talked about. It was suddenly very clear to him how grateful Remus was for the friends he had. He also saw, for the first time, why his parents had such unfailing faith in Dumbledore. Dumbledore was someone who protected Remus, and that was enough for his parents to trust Dumbledore.

“I’m only dangerous during the full moon,” Remus said. “And now that there’s the Wolfsbane Potion, I’m able to transform without losing myself. I’m not dangerous to anyone in the castle.”

This didn’t seem to satisfy Ron and Neville as much as Harry thought it should. He’d definitely have a long talk with them later.

Sirius cleared his throat. “Which, speaking of, Remus, we’d better get moving.”

Remus nodded. “Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Neville, you should return to the castle. We’ll stay here and take care of Regulus and Barty.”

“Wait,” Harry said, “you haven’t told us what’s really going on with Regulus Black. How did you escape? Why did he come back for Barty Crouch? Why isn’t Barty Crouch dead, if everyone thought he was? What’s going to happen to Regulus Black now?”

“Regulus Black will be returning to Azkaban,” a cold, clear voice said. The door creaked as it opened, and Snape joined the increasingly crowded shack. He was holding the Marauder’s Map in one hand, and had his wand in the other. He lowered it at Sirius, Remus, and Barty Crouch. “And you’ll all be joining him. Aiding a criminal to get in and out of Hogwarts? I imagine they’ll give you a life sentence for that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and headcanons always appreciated. And a happy new year!


	19. The Servant of Lord Voldemort

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How Regulus and Barty escaped. Beta'd by ageofzero.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> omg i'm so sorry i forgot to post yesterday. I swear it's because I've been working super hard on Goblet of Fire this week and totally forgot that this one still needs to be updated. I hope it's worth the extra wait and it should answer quite a few of your questions!

Snape pointed his wand at Remus and Sirius, who were still holding Barty Crouch, Jr. down on the floor. Harry felt a strange wave of fury wash over him. How could Snape point his wand at Remus and Sirius when escaped criminal Regulus Black was right in front of him? What was Snape thinking?

Regulus Black stepped forward cautiously. “Severus, be reasonable. Just hear me out.”

“I will not sit here and listen to a criminal defend his actions,” Snape said, but he kept his wand pointed at Sirius, Remus, and Barty. “You’ll all be coming to Azkaban--or perhaps I should take you straight to the dementors.”

“Don’t let an old grudge cloud your judgement,” Remus said softly.

“I won’t listen to a werewolf, either. It’s clear now that you, too, have been helping Regulus Black into Hogwarts.”

“But he couldn’t have,” Hermione said. “The night Regulus Black broke into Hogwarts was the night after the full moon and--”

“Silence,” Snape growled. “You’ll all be suspended faster than you can blink for leaving the school grounds without permission.”

“You’re an idiot, Snape,” Sirius said harshly. “Just listen to what Regulus has to say. You may hate me, but he used to be your friend.”

Barty Crouch laughed loudly. “Friends? Regulus Black, friends with a filthy half-blood? A traitor to the Dark Lord--”

“ _Silencio_ ,” Snape said, and though Barty Crouch’s mouth kept hurling insults, no sound came from it.

“Harry and Neville are in danger,” Sirius tried again. “You don’t realize--”

“Perhaps from a werewolf who has forgotten to take his Wolfsbane Potion tonight.” Snape pushed his wand against Remus’s throat. “And Dumbledore was so certain you were harmless. I’m well within my rights to arrest you all and to take these students back to the Headmaster.”

“You’re not--” Remus tried to say, but Snape flicked his wand, and a rope snaked out of the end of it, binding and gagging Remus.

Sirius’s snarl was feral as he abandoned Barty Crouch to throw a silent hex at Snape. Snape quickly cast a Shield Charm, and returned a hex of his own. Sirius was struck in the chest and collapsed on the floor, holding his stomach and retching something that looked to Harry like blood.

Harry had seen Sirius duel his mother before, and he was surprised that Sirius had been undone after one counter curse. Sirius was usually quicker, more focused.

But Harry didn’t have time to worry about it. Barty Crouch scrambled to his feet and leaped down the stairs.

“No!” Regulus Black shouted. He ran for the door, not even hesitating as Snape disarmed him. Snape threw another silent spell as Regulus tried to run down the stairs. There was a crash and a thud, and Harry and Neville both pushed past Snape to get to Regulus.

Harry heard the crack of a spell just before it hit and ducked to avoid it. Dust from the ceiling crumbled onto his head as he reached the bottom of the stairs. He saw Regulus, crouched on the floor, hand pressed against a gash in his shoulder, as Barty Crouch slipped under the trapdoor.

Harry went after Barty, but hesitated before jumping into the tunnel to look back at Neville, who had stopped to put his wand in Regulus Black’s face.

Regulus looked up at Neville, blood seeping through his fingers. “I won’t say I don’t deserve it,” he whispered, “but I didn’t torture your parents. It was Barty and the Lestranges. I went to your house that night to stop them.”

Harry was torn between going after Barty Crouch or stopping Neville from doing something he would regret. In his moment of hesitation, he heard Hermione and Ron simultaneously shout, “Expelliarmus!” followed by a crash. Then they came running down the stairs, and Harry decided to let them take care of Neville. He dropped down into the tunnel and started running. He didn’t turn on a light, but by letting one hand trail along the earth wall, he was able to avoid running into anything. He reached the end without any sign of Barty Crouch, so he pulled himself up under the Whomping Willow. He was just in time to see a branch hit Barty Crouch square in the chest. Barty rolled out of the way of another branch, then shrunk back into Scabbers.

Harry pressed the knot on the trunk and ran after him. Now that Barty Crouch was tiny, Harry could easily overtake him. He grabbed Scabbers around the middle and held tightly, but Barty turned back into himself. Harry simply adjusted his grip and refused to let go. Even though Harry was thirteen, and Barty a full-grown adult, Harry was able to prevent him from getting away. Barty was surprisingly thin, and seemed to rely more on being slippery than on any brute strength.

Harry managed to drag Barty away from the Whomping Willow as Ron, Hermione, Neville, Sirius, Remus, and Regulus Black all crawled out from the passage beneath the Willow. They met Harry just at the edge of the Willow’s reach.

“Where’s Snape?” Harry asked, as Sirius helped him hold Barty down.

“Left him,” Sirius grunted.

“We attacked a teacher,” Hermione said, her face nearly as pale as Remus’s.

“He was throwing curses at Harry and Neville,” Ron protested. “Of course we had to disarm him.”

“The combined force and knocking him out though,” Remus said with a small smile, “was quite a gifted touch.”

Ron seemed to beam with pride. Hermione only looked more worried.

“Will someone please explain what’s happening?” Neville pleaded. “If Regulus Black didn’t break out of Azkaban to kill me and Harry, why is he here?"

Regulus was still holding his shoulder, though the bleeding seemed to have slowed. Harry wondered why Sirius hadn’t fixed it yet, or Ron’s arm for that matter. Sirius seemed incredibly distracted tonight. Harry was about to say something, but Regulus started speaking.

“I came here for Barty Crouch,” he said. “I believed him dead, but he had escaped Azkaban instead. I saw him in the newspaper, sitting on your shoulder,” he looked at Ron, “with your family in Egypt, and I recognized him right away. It was the tear in his ear.”

“He’s always had that tear,” Ron said.

“Not always. I gave him that tear the night I went to stop him from hurting the Longbottoms.”

Neville shook his head. “But you were You-Know-Who’s right hand! Why would you stop Barty Crouch?”

“And what about those two years where you killed all those people?” Hermione asked.

Regulus sighed heavily. “I spent two years recovering from some very dark magic, and on my better days, I would use my abilities as an Animagus to collect letters that would incriminate the higher-ranking members of the Dark Lord’s order. It’s true I was close with the Dark Lord--the privilege of my parents’ money--but I soon saw the horror of what he was. I defied him, and if it wasn’t for the care of my family’s house elf, and Barty’s help, I never would have survived. Only those two knew that I lived, because I knew if anyone discovered my treachery--”

There was a sharp crack, and Barty Crouch was suddenly shouting, “Traitor! Blood-traitor, filthy, Muggle-loving traitor! You lied to me! You told me--”

“ _Silencio_ ,” Sirius snarled.

Regulus paused in his story, eyes fixed on Barty, who was still mouthing curses at Regulus. After a moment, he continued, “For two years, I recovered from the Dark Lord’s curse, until I found out that he’d been destroyed.” His eyes flicked curiously at Harry, and Harry was suddenly very aware of the lightning bolt-shaped scar on his forehead. “When I found out that Barty and those closest to the Dark Lord were going to the Longbottoms for answers, I couldn’t stand by. Barty and I fought, and we were both arrested, along with the Lestranges. Barty accused me of his worst crimes, in an effort to escape Azkaban, but his father sent him to prison anyway.”

Hermione frowned. “But you should have been given a fair trial. You should have been able to defend yourself.”

Regulus’s smile had no emotion to it. It was an expression for the sake of communicating humorless irony, but it was neither amused nor bitter about what it had to say. “I’ve been living in the Gryffindor common room as Ginny Weasley’s cat for the last few months. I know you are already quite familiar with the Ministry’s inability to conduct fair trials. And during the war, it was a time where people wanted justice before they wanted answers or truth. The only thing I don’t know is how Barty escaped Azkaban in the first place. I thought he died in prison.”

They all looked at Barty Crouch, who was still glowering at Regulus from beneath the combined weight of Harry and Sirius.

Sirius stuck his wand under Barty’s throat and said, “If you let out so much as a breath of an insult about blood, you’ll be wishing for the dementors.”

Barty Crouch’s rage twisted into amusement, and he nodded to show he understood.

“You’re going to answer our questions,” Sirius said.

Barty only shrugged with a faint smirk.

“ _Finite Incantatem_ ,” Remus said. “Tell us how you escaped Azkaban.”

“I was mute, not deaf,” Barty said. Then he paused, like he was looking for a suitable lie to explain his escape. Sirius pressed his wand against his throat, and Barty said, “Alright, alright. My father may have been cold enough to lock his own son in Azkaban, but my mother went mad with grief. She came to visit me, and with the help of some Polyjuice Potion, traded her weak and dying soul for mine. The dementors never knew the difference. I hid for twelve years, watching, listening, waiting for whispers of the Dark Lord’s return.” There was an anticipation in Barty’s eyes as he stared at Harry.

Harry wondered how much Barty had learned about Voldemort while disguised as Scabbers. Had he known about the Philosopher’s Stone? What about Tom Riddle’s diary and the Chamber of Secrets? He remembered Trelawney’s prophecy, that Voldemort would rise again with the help of his servant. If they could just keep Barty Crouch from escaping, maybe they could prevent Voldemort’s return, too.

“I still have a question,” Hermione said. “Why haven’t you done it yet? If you’re still supporting You-Know-Who, why haven’t you killed Harry? You’ve had twelve years to do it.”

Barty Crouch laughed, a long, loud laugh that rang across the grounds of Hogwarts like a raven’s cackle in the dead of night. “The Dark Lord has powers you’ve never dreamed of, not in your worst nightmares. lf you knew--”

But before Barty Crouch could finish, Remus doubled over with a cry of pain and dropped his wand.

They all saw the silver light of the moon rise over the treetops of the Forbidden Forest only a second too late.


	20. The Dementor's Kiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry tries to save Sirius.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm heartbroken and shocked by the loss of Alan Rickman. Tbh my favorite film with him in it is Galaxy Quest, and I love Love Actually, and I'm sad I'll never get to see him in a live stage performance. He was such a wonderful person. I hope he's in a better place.

Harry watched in horror as Remus’s body twisted in a way that Harry knew had to be unnatural. Remus’s cry of agony soon became a howl, and Harry could only watch, helpless and transfixed, too afraid to move, and too determined not to let Barty Crouch go, until Sirius pushed him towards the castle.

“Go, Harry!”

“But--”

“You heard Snape--Remus forgot his potion tonight.” Harry was pretty sure Sirius added some colorful language that Snape hadn’t used, but it was hard to be sure over the howling. “All of you, run!” Sirius shouted, and then suddenly he was a dog, barking at the newly transformed werewolf.

Regulus Black tried to shift into a cat, but he stopped mid-motion and grabbed his injured shoulder. He hissed through the pain and looked at Harry. “Go. I’ll manage.”

Hermione wasn’t moving, so Harry grabbed her hand and pulled, and he pushed Ron forward.

“Neville!” he shouted, realizing Neville was not with them.

Neville was rushing towards Barty Crouch. “You’re the one who tortured my parents, then?” His wand was grasped so tightly, Harry wasn’t sure what spell he could even attempt with that grip. As he chased Barty, Neville tried to avoid the small fight Sirius was getting into with the werewolf, in his attempt to keep Remus from the children.

Barty Crouch did not seem to have the same fear of the werewolf that the others had, despite the disgust he’d shown earlier. He dove right underneath Sirius and grabbed the wand that Remus had dropped.

“ _Petrificus Totalus!_ ” Neville shouted, but the jinx went wild, and fell harmlessly off of the werewolf, who only pawed its snout in irritation, and looked at Neville. Neville froze, but Sirius barked and pounced on the werewolf. They rolled in the damp grass for a brief moment until the wolf escaped and went bounding off into the forest. Sirius ran after it.

Barty Crouch threw a hex at Neville; a stream of purple fire shot from his wand. Neville went down into the grass immediately. Regulus Black grabbed Neville’s wand and threw a curse at Barty, but Barty deflected it. Harry didn’t know what spells they were throwing at each other, but he had a feeling they were far darker than any his parents ever used in their practice duels.

There was a bright white spark from the end of Barty Crouch’s wand, and Regulus Black went down with a strangled cry, like all the wind had been knocked from his lungs.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione ran forward. Barty tried to throw another curse at the three of them, but Harry shouted, “ _Protego_!” and a white shield covered Harry and his friends. 

Ron stepped forward and shouted, “ _Expelliarmus_!” but Barty Crouch only copied Harry’s shield. Then he threw another curse at Ron that Harry didn’t have time to deflect.

As Ron crumpled to the ground, Harry shouted, “ _Confringo_ ,” and a small explosion made a crater between them and Barty Crouch.

Barty fell backwards, and when he got to his feet, ran off into the Forbidden Forest.

“No!” Harry shouted and tried to run after him, but Hermione grabbed his arm.

“Harry, you can’t go in there! And we need to get Ron and Neville to the infirmary immediately!”

Harry yanked his arm away from Hermione. “He has Uncle Remus’s wand!”

“It’s dangerous,” she said again. “Ron and Neville are hurt.”

Regulus Black slowly got to his feet. “Hermione is right,” he said, taking in a deep breath. He still clutched the injury on his shoulder. “You children need to get to safety. I’ll take care of Barty Crouch like I came here to do.”

“You’re hurt too,” Harry protested.

Before the fight could continue any further, a loud whine came from the forest.

“Sirius,” Harry said, and ran towards the sound. Regulus ran after him.

“Harry, no!” Hermione called after him, but he ignored her.

He was too concerned for Sirius. Had Remus hurt him? What could’ve happened to Sirius while he was a dog? Harry had no intention of hurting Remus, but at least Snape’s essay had prepared him on how to confront an unsafe werewolf. Even if Harry had riddled his essay with sarcastic comments and criticisms of the social treatment of werewolves, he had actually learned a thing or two.

He followed the sound of Sirius’s painful cries to the edge of the Black Lake, and Harry realized suddenly how cold it was for an early summer evening.

His heart hammered in his chest, his throat started to close up, and his vision started to blur. He looked across the lake and saw hundreds of dementors descending on him and Sirius. Regulus sank to his knees beside Harry. Harry had just enough focus to watch Regulus turn pale, and his face that had before now communicated no honest emotion twisted into one of absolute agony.

“No,” Harry said out loud. “ _Expecto patronum_!” But there was only a faint glow from the end of his wand. Harry shouldn’t have been surprised. He was entirely unfocused on happy memories. He was terrified for Remus, and for Sirius, and for his friends. His vision was beginning to turn white, and he thought desperately of winning the Quidditch Cup, and being with his friends and parents, and tried again.

“ _Expecto patronum_!” A silvery wisp shot from the end of his wand, but nothing more.

Harry sank to his knees beside Sirius, trying to protect him. “He’s innocent!” Harry shouted. “He’s not even the person you’re looking for!”

But the dementors didn’t respond to Harry’s pleas. It shouldn’t have surprised him. They heard your thoughts and your emotions, not your words. Dementors saw your soul, not your face. But then they should have been able to tell Sirius and Regulus Black apart. Unless, even inside, the brothers were far too similar to be distinguishable.

But that didn’t explain why they were hurting Harry.

“ _Expecto patronum_ ,” Harry tried again, thinking of New Years’ Eve with Sirius, by the fire place, and his mother’s tea cups. He thought of finishing his Defense Against the Dark Arts exam and getting full points, “ _Expecto patronum_ ,” but still nothing but small silver wisps burst from the end of his wand and faded into nothing.

A dementor came close and reached its bony, decaying hands out to Harry. Harry felt his heart stop and the white fog creep into the edges of his vision. It’s hood slipped off and Harry saw only the thing he feared most, and as he heard his mother screaming in his head, and his father’s words--“Take Harry and go!”--he felt like his soul was being drawn out his throat. He couldn’t breathe. He knew he was going to pass out. He knew it was over, that this was how he would die, here, with Sirius.

And then the white fog was broken through by a silver light. The dementor let go of Harry and he collapsed on the shore of the lake. His vision was still blurred, but he looked up to see two silver figures, charging across the lake. They were large, powerful Patronuses. Certainly not his. A stag and a doe cantered across the water, bearing down on the dementors until the monsters scattered completely.

“Mum? Dad?” Harry managed to whisper just before he lost consciousness.


	21. Hermione's Secret

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry and Hermione are going to save Regulus Black, and a few more people.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Real talk guys, I know if I'm late on a chapter it's usually because of work or because I was drinking too much, but this week I'm late because my best friend lost a loved one to suicide, so I've been helping her grieve, since I've also been through that.
> 
> And I just want to pause and let you know three things:
> 
> a) If you're struggling with depression and suicidal thoughts, you are not alone. There are so many people who are going through what you're going through, or something similar, and it might feel like no one will ever understand but I promise you that you are absolutely not alone.
> 
> b) You don't have to be alone. Depression is not a battle fought well by yourself. Always, always, always seek help from someone you trust, whether that's a parent, a teacher, a friend's parent, or just a friend who you look up to and is a good support. There are online chat rooms so you don't have to make that phone call if you're too nervous to call a suicide hotline. There are so many supports please use them.
> 
> and c) For any of you who don't struggle with these things, look out for your friends who do. When someone says they want to die, listen; talk to them. Don't laugh it off. Take them out for coffee every so often. Remind them you care. Remind them it's okay.
> 
> Your feelings aren't invalid, but, for the love of God, do not act on them. There will always be people left behind who care, even if you don't think so. You cannot imagine the pain someone will go through when they find your note or your body or they get a message from a friend or parent telling them what happened. I spent three days knowing only that my good friend was missing and we didn't know if she was dead or alive, and when we did finally find her there was evidence she had tried to throw up the pills she'd taken.
> 
> When my cousin told her friend she was going to kill herself and drank too much medicine, her friend called the cops immediately. My mother, sisters, aunt, and cousins all spent a week waiting in the hospital, not knowing if she was going to wake up. I am a writer, and there are no words for the agony you experience in that span of time, not knowing if someone is going to live or die, and knowing that the way they may die is totally preventable. My cousin was lucky and survived, and she is so grateful that she's alive. She regretted what she did almost immediately, and we're so glad that help got to her in time.
> 
> Please, please, please, don't put anyone through that awful experience of losing a loved one to something preventable. You don't deserve it. They don't deserve it. No one does. If you ever need to reach out to me, you are more than welcome to. I am a full grown adult with a real job and real bills, so I understand if that's intimidating to some of you, but I just encourage you to find support from people you love and be supported by people you love.
> 
> And without further ado, here is a new chapter. Next week's will be better, and hopefully won't have such a depressing intro.

“Shocking business… shocking… miracle none of them died… never heard the like.. by thunder, it was lucky you were there, Snape….”

“Thank you, Minister.”

“Order of Merlin, Second Class, I’d say. First Class, if I can wangle it.”

“Thank you very much indeed, Minister. And you’re sure the Potters are safe at home?”

Harry still felt groggy, and the voices sounded distant, but it was definitely Snape and Cornelius Fudge speaking. He tried to open his eyes, but his body felt heavy, and he vaguely wondered if he’d fallen off his broom again, or was he still falling?

“Yes, yes. Rufus Scrimgeour just sent word that he’s with them. Honestly, I’m shocked by the behavior of those dementors. Just shocked. I can’t believe they would perform the kiss on an innocent boy. It’s lucky you found them when you did.”

“Yes, but I’m afraid they were all unconscious by the time I arrived. If I had been even minutes later…. Of course, I bound the Blacks for safety, and brought the children all back on stretchers.”

Harry remembered what had happened in a rush, and his head started pounding from the effort. He shifted in bed, trying to sit up and forced himself to open his eyes. His vision was blurry, and his heart raced at the expectation of dementors, but then he realized that he just wasn’t wearing his glasses.

He turned his head to see Hermione on his left. She was sitting up in bed, perfectly still, but then she met his eyes, and pressed a finger to her lips. She pointed to the open door of the infirmary, and Harry realized that’s where the voices were coming from.

He glanced across the infirmary to see Ron and Neville, both asleep. Harry pointed and asked, “Are they alright?” in a quiet whisper.

Hermione nodded, then put her finger to her lips again as Snape started speaking.

“It was obvious that Black had bewitched the children. I saw it immediately--a Confundus Charm, to judge by their behavior. They weren’t responsible for their actions. On the other hand, their interference might have permitted Black to escape. They obviously thought they were going to catch Black single-handed. Of course, even if they hadn’t run into Sirius Black--”

“Another strange tragedy,” the Minister sighed. “Sirius Black was a hero in the war. It’s hard to believe he would turn Death Eater now. And the news that Barty Crouch, Jr. is alive….”

“It is a lot, of course, but catching two criminals tonight--”

“Yes, yes, you’ve done wonderfully, Snape. Macnair’s gone to get the dementors. They should be here to perform the kiss for Regulus Black shortly. Can’t risk Barty Crouch helping him escape again.”

Harry sat up quickly, ignoring how badly his head throbbed. No, Sirius wasn’t guilty of anything. He’d only tried to help Regulus Black right an old wrong, and catch a criminal who had escaped justice. And Regulus Black didn’t deserve the dementor’s kiss, no matter what he’d done before. No one deserved that.

“Goodness,” Madam Pomfrey said as he grabbed his glasses. “You’re awake--no, dear, stay in bed. Have some chocolate.”

“I need to see the headmaster,” he said quickly. “Where’s Dumbledore?”

“It’s alright,” Madam Pomfrey said, and stuffed a piece of chocolate into his mouth. She took the moment of surprise as an opportunity to shove him back into the bed. “No need to be in a rush. You’re both safe.”

“But Regulus Black doesn’t deserve the dementor’s kiss,” Hermione said. She was also trying to get out of bed now. “He was only trying to catch Barty Crouch, because--”

“I understand you’re all a little confused,” Madam Pomfrey said. “But--”

Harry swallowed his chocolate and felt warmer for it. “You can’t, though. Regulus Black isn’t who you think he is!”

His shout was heard in the hallway, and Fudge and Snape walked into the infirmary.

“Harry,” Fudge said in a voice painfully reminiscent of the condescending voice he’d spoken to Harry with at the Leaky Cauldron all those months ago. “You should be resting. You’ve nearly--”

“Where’s Dumbledore?” Harry repeated. “Where are my parents?”

“Your parents are safe at home. After hearing the news of Barty Crouch, we immediately dispatched Aurors to protect them. Not to worry. They’ll be perfectly safe. And we’ve sent them word about Regulus and Sirius Black’s capture, so--”

“Sirius didn’t do anything wrong! He’s not a traitor. Regulus Black is--Regulus Black betrayed Voldemort and--”

The Minister looked completely affronted by Harry using the name “Voldemort” out loud. “Honestly, Harry, I understand that you’re confused. You’ve been through quite an ordeal. Just lie down and--”

“You’re wrong,” Hermione said. “Please, just listen to us.”

The Minister seemed like he was about to repeat his admonishment that they rest and recover, but before he could, Dumbledore pushed open the doors to the infirmary, looking strangely grim. But the seriousness faded before Harry could really wonder why it was there, and it was replaced with Dumbledore’s usual twinkle.

“My patients need rest,” Madam Pomfrey said sternly, and started shooing the intruding visitors out of the infirmary.

“I would just like a short word with Mr. Potter and Miss Granger,” Dumbledore said. “It won’t take long. I’ve just been talking with Regulus and Sirius Black--”

“I suppose he’s told you the same fairy tale he’s planted in Potter’s mind?” spat Snape. “Something about Barty Crouch and Regulus Black being Animagi and--”

“That is, indeed, their story,” Dumbledore said.

“Even though we have testimony against Regulus Black and the crimes he committed during the war?”

“Barty Crouch lied,” Hermione said. “He said so himself. You saw him, Professor--”

Dumbledore raised his hand for silence. “There were more testimonies against Regulus Black than just Barty Crouch's.” Harry was sure he was staring at Snape as he said this, not Hermione. “I would still like a moment alone with Harry and Hermione. Cornelius, Severus, Poppy--please leave us.”

“Headmaster!” Madam Pomfrey said, “They need treatment and rest--”

“This cannot wait,” he said. “I must insist.”

Madam Pomfrey did not look pleased, and when she retreated into her office, she slammed her door shut.

Fudge cleared his throat. “I suppose I should meet the dementors. I’ll meet you upstairs, Dumbledore.”

He left the infirmary and paused in the hallway for Snape, who didn’t follow.

“Surely you don’t believe Sirius Black is innocent?” Snape whispered. “You know he proved he was capable of murder at the age of sixteen. You know I wasn’t the only one that believed he’d betrayed James and Lily that night--”

“My memory is as good as it ever was, Severus,” said Dumbledore.

Snape fumed for a moment, then walked towards the hallway, pace quick and back stiff, hands clenched at his sides.

“Regulus and Sirius are telling the truth,” Harry said quickly.

“We read the letters,” Hermione said, “where Regulus Black said he was betraying You-Know-Who, and Barty Crouch instigated the attack on the Longbottoms, not Regulus--”

“Sirius read them too,” Harry said, “and they’re all Animagi, which is how--”

Dumbledore, again, held up his hand for silence. “It is your turn to listen, and I beg you will not interrupt me, because there is very little time. Even if Regulus Black did betray Voldemort fourteen years ago, there are plenty of other crimes he has committed. And even then, without these letters, or Barty Crouch returning to redact his accusations against Regulus Black, there is little that can be done. As for Sirius Black, there are many who will easily believe he chose to side with his brother and that he deserves a similar fate.”

“But they’re wrong--” Harry said, then stopped when Dumbledore shot him a harsh look.

“Snape’s version of events is far more convincing. Sirius did not go to anyone for help, nor did Regulus. They acted outside of authority, and it is hard for their story to be believed now.”

“Where are my parents?” Harry asked. “I saw them, in the forest--”

“Your parents are at home.”

Harry remembered the Minister had said the same thing, but he didn’t understand. He’d seen his parents’ Patronuses in the forest. His parents had come and saved him, so why weren’t they here now? And how could he help Regulus and Sirius? Regulus didn’t deserve the kiss, and Sirius didn’t deserve Azkaban.

“And though James and Lily Potter could vouch for Sirius’s innocence, it will take a little time to have them brought here. Of course, I will do everything I can to speed their arrival, and delay Sirius Black’s sentence. But in order to help Regulus Black, we need more _time.”_

Hermione’s eyes went wide and she covered her mouth with her hands. “Oh!”

“If you truly believe that Regulus Black does not deserve the fate that awaits him,” Dumbledore continued, “then I will tell you this: He is locked in Professor Flitwick’s office on the seventh floor. Thirteenth window from the right of the West Tower. If all goes well, you will be able to save more than one innocent life tonight. But remember this, both of you: _you must not be seen_.”

Harry frowned, completely puzzled by Dumbledore’s warning, and opened his mouth to ask what Dumbledore meant, but Dumbledore walked to the door. He paused at the frame. “I am going to lock you in. It is five minutes to midnight. Miss Granger, three turns should do it. Good luck.” And he closed the door.

Harry had grown up in the wizarding world and been exposed to all sorts of spells, but he was constantly amazed by what magic could do. He’d learned over the course of his studies that there was no end to the things one could do with magic simply by being creative. He’d watched his parents invent new spells and tweak old ones. He’d come to school and learned all sorts of new things. But despite all that, he was in complete disbelief, when Hermione took out a necklace with a tiny hourglass charm, threw the chain around his neck, and the two of them went hurtling backwards. It was worse than any Floo Powder trip Harry had ever taken, but not quite as bad as Side-Along Apparition.

When his feet finally touched ground again, he had to blink several times until the world came back into focus and his stomach settled back down where it belonged.

They were in the infirmary, still, but it was filled with the golden glow of sunset.

“What--”

But Hermione dragged him across the hall and shoved him into a broom closet, closing the door tightly behind them both. “We’ve gone back in time,” she whispered, and pressed her ear against the door.

“Back in time? How?"

“Time-Turner--Sh, I hear something. I think it’s us.”

“Us?"

Hermione bit down on her lip. “Yes, yes it’s us going down to Hagrid’s. We’re moving slowly because we’re under the Invisibility Cloak.”

“So we’re out there and… we’re in here, too?”

She then sat down on a bucket and rubbed her hand over her face. “Yes.”

“Why do you have a… whatever it is?”

“McGonagall gave me a Time-Turner so I could get to all my lessons. She made me promise not to tell anyone. I had to get special permission from the Ministry, and she had to promise I was a responsible student and that I’d never use it for anything but my studies.” She sighed heavily. “But I don’t understand why Dumbledore wanted us to come back to this moment. How are we supposed to help Regulus Black?”

Harry had to think hard about what Dumbledore had said. More than one life could be saved. And he’d told them which window they could find Regulus Black in. What happened at this time that would help them save Regulus?

Harry ran his hand through his hair and tried to think. “We just went down to Hagrid’s, so--” and it hit him, “--Buckbeak! Hermione, we’re going to save Buckbeak! And we can fly him up to Regulus Black!”

Hermione didn’t look relieved to have a plan. Instead she looked more worried. She shook her head anxiously. “But how can we do that without being seen--oh!” She reached into her robes and pulled out the Invisibility Cloak she’d picked up when Ron went after Scabbers on the hilltop, which felt so much longer ago than just a few hours. Or, it would be happening in a few hours. Harry’s head hurt from thinking about it.

“Why can’t we be seen?” Harry whispered as she threw the Cloak over them.

“Think about it,” Hermione said. “What would you do if you saw yourself?”

“I guess I’d think it was some sort of trick.”

“Exactly. It’s too dangerous. We have to be careful, especially once we have Buckbeak.”

Harry nodded in agreement, and together he and Hermione walked down to Hagrid’s hut. They arrived not long after their past selves knocked on Hagrid’s door. They were just in time to see Hagrid close the door, and the other Harry pull the other Invisibility Cloak off of the three of them.

“This is really weird,” Harry mumbled to Hermione.

“A bit,” she said. “We need to get closer to Buckbeak.”

“Can’t we take him now?”

“We have to wait until the Minster of Magic and the man from the Committee have seen him. Otherwise they’ll think Hagrid let him go.”

Harry sighed, but he was glad Hermione was with him. He’d have done terribly all on his own. He never would have thought of things like this. He supposed it was because she’d been time traveling all year, taking twelve classes. How she managed it all, Harry still didn’t understand. He was barely holding on with nine classes.

They waited until they saw Dumbledore, the Minister, the Committee member, and the executioner walking towards Hagrid’s hut. Then the other Harry, Hermione, and Ron hurried out the back door of Hagrid’s hut. The other trio said their goodbyes, and hurried back towards the castle. Harry felt strange, behind the Invisibility Cloak, knowing that just a few feet in front of him was himself, hours earlier, passing by under the same Invisibility Cloak.

Once Harry was sure the other him, Ron, and Hermione were over the crest of the hill, and Hagrid had let Dumbledore, the Minister, the Committee member, and the executioner into his hut, Harry slipped out from under the Cloak.

He walked up to Buckbeak, careful not to blink, and bowed low. Buckbeak eyed him suspiciously, as he had in the paddock so long ago, then lowered his head to Harry.

“It is the decision of the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures that the hippogriff Buckbeak, hereafter called the condemned, shall be executed on the sixth of June at sundown,” the Committee member was reading in a high voice as Harry anxiously worked at the knot that tied Buckbeak to the fence.

“Hurry,” Hermione whispered from the treeline.

“...sentenced to execution by beheading, to be carried out by the Committee’s appointed executioner, Walden Macnair….”

Harry pulled the knot free and tugged on the end of the rope. “Buckbeak, c’mon.”

“Hagrid, sign here.”

The large hippogriff eyed Harry as he tugged on the rope, but didn’t move an inch.

“Hagrid, perhaps it will be better if you stay inside--”

“No, I--I wan’ ter be with him… I don’ wan’ him ter be alone--”

There were footsteps and shuffling inside the cabin.

“Harry,” Hermione hissed.

“Buckbeak, move!” Harry pleaded.

Then Dumbledore’s voice-- “One moment please, Macnair. You need to sign too.”

Harry knew he had precious seconds left and tugged with all his weight. Finally, Buckbeak trotted towards him, and as the rope slacked, Harry fell into the pumpkin patch.

Hermione ran out from the treeline and pulled with him. Together, they got Buckbeak to move a little faster. They got into the trees and kept going until they couldn’t see Hagrid’s anymore, and hopefully the people at Hagrid’s couldn’t see them.

“Hold on,” Hermione hissed. “They might hear us.”

Harry stopped and together, they listened closely.

There was the bang of Hagrid’s door opening, then the Committee member said, “Where is it? Where is the beast?”

“It was tied here,” Macnair the executioner said furiously. There was the thud of an axe, and Harry realized that the sound he’d heard earlier (or right now?) hadn’t been Buckbeak’s execution at all, but instead the sound of the executioner swinging his axe in frustration.

“Now what?” Harry whispered to Hermione.

She looked around the forest. “We hide here. We have to wait until it’s safe to take Buckbeak to rescue Regulus.”

“That’s hours away.”

Hermione nodded. “I told you this wasn’t going to be easy.”

“We’ve got to at least be able to see the Whomping Willow,” Harry said, “or we won’t know what’s going on.”

Hermione nodded and tightened her grip on Buckbeak’s rope. “Just remember, Harry, we can’t be seen.”

“I know.”

“So you can’t go after Barty Crouch, or try to stop Snape from catching Regulus Black and Sirius.”

Harry frowned. "I know."

They got closer to the Whomping Willow, but stayed just behind the treeline. They sat down behind a clump of bushes just in time to see Neville slip down the hill and fall flat on his back. Ron was right behind him, and dove on top of Scabbers.

“Gotcha, you slippery thing,” he said, then, “You stupid cat, stop!” as Hermione and Harry came over the hill.

They watched Sirius drag Ron under the Whomping Willow, then Harry saw himself get smacked by one of the Willow’s thicker branches. He rubbed the back of his head, remembering the pain of hitting the ground.

Then Llewelyn--Regulus Black--pressed the knot on the Whomping Willow, and everyone went underneath.

"I can’t believe Regulus Black was staying in the common room this whole time,” Harry whispered.

“That explains why Ginny could never get him to come up to her dormitory.”

Harry wrinkled his nose. “Yeah, that would’ve been weird.” He hoped Ginny wouldn’t be too disappointed that she no longer had a cat. She’d been so happy to have a pet of her own like Ron did.

Hermione shushed him as they heard footsteps. It was Dumbledore, Macnair, Fudge, and the Committee member walking back up to the castle. When they were gone, it was quiet for a few more minutes, then Remus Lupin came running down the stone steps towards the Whomping Willow. He used a long stick to prod the knot on the Whomping Willow, then ran underneath it.

“If only he’d taken his potion,” Harry said bitterly. “I can’t understand why he would just rush off to the Willow, when--”

“Sh,” Hermione hissed. “There’s Snape--”

And sure enough, just on Remus’s heels was Professor Snape, carrying the Marauder’s Map.

As soon as he was gone, Hermione whispered, “He must’ve seen Remus on the Marauder’s Map and gone after him.”

“Snape doesn’t know how to work the map.”

“But if Professor Lupin left it lying on the table, without erasing it….”

Now Harry understood. Remus must’ve seen Barty Crouch on the map. Maybe he even saw Sirius with Regulus, and got concerned. His heart sank into his stomach as he realized that Remus had been checking up on him, making sure he was safe in the Common Room, and instead, he’d snuck out to Hagrid’s. If he’d stayed upstairs, maybe none of this would’ve happened. Maybe Scabbers would never have got out.

Or maybe Scabbers would have escaped anyway, and they never would have learned the truth.

He wondered if he could go back in time and convince himself not to leave the Common Room in the first place, but then who would there be to save Buckbeak?

Time-travel gave Harry a headache.

“I don’t understand,” Harry said slowly, “who saved me from the dementors if my parents are at home?” He remembered Remus saying he’d tell James to stay home because of Regulus Black, and it sounded like James had listened. Harry felt even worse about breaking his promise to Remus.

“It must’ve been Snape,” Hermione said. “He was bragging to the Minister about how he saved you.”

__“But there were two,” Harry said. “I saw two Patronuses.”_ _

Hermione chewed on her lip. “I don’t know, Harry.”

Before either of them could come up with an idea, Barty Crouch came out of the Whomping Willow, running, until he got knocked to the ground by the Willow. Then Harry came after him, pressed the knot as Barty transformed, and then Harry pounced on the weasel.

Then everyone came out and listened to Regulus and Barty’s stories. Harry, the Harry with Buckbeak and Hermione, stood suddenly.

“We have to move,” he whispered to Hermione.

“We can’t be seen.”

“I know, but Uncle Remus is going to transform in a minute and run straight at us.”

“Oh--” Hermione moaned. “Where can we go?”

Harry ran his hand through his hair, pushing back his bangs. “We’ll have to go to the lake. The dementors will be there, but we know that Uncle Remus will avoid it.”

Hermione looked reasonably terrified, but nodded. She and Harry hurriedly led Buckbeak down by the lake, careful to stay in the treeline. They heard a howl in the distance and Harry tightened his grip on his wand. The pounding of paws got closer and Hermione made sure Buckbeak was between her and the sounds. Even proud Buckbeak tried to move away from the approaching howls.

__Harry knew he should have been terrified, but he wasn’t. He knew that Sirius would stop Remus from hurting anyone, as he had done a hundred times before._ _

__The werewolf burst out of the trees onto the shore of the Black Lake. Sirius, as a dog, was not far behind him. Then the dementors swooped down on the lake. The werewolf turned and ran. Sirius whimpered and shifted from Padfoot into his human form, but was incredibly still and pale as he stared up at the hundreds of dementors that descended onto him._ _

__Harry resisted the urge to burst out of the trees and do as he had done before--simply shout at the dementors that Sirius was innocent. He too, felt cold, and he tightened his grip on his wand. He thought of his happiest memory, or tried to. He wasn’t entirely sure what that memory was. Nothing had worked so far._ _

__As the dementors continued to swoop over Sirius, Harry and Regulus Black ran into the clearing. Regulus collapsed immediately, and from behind the trees, Harry watched himself try to conure a feeble patronus._ _

__His heart raced in his chest as he waited for his parents to appear, or someone, anyone._ _

__He watched himself pass out and waited, but no one came as a dementor lowered its hood and approached Harry._ _

__“Harry--you’re going to die--” Hermione whispered._ _

__And Harry realized what he had to do. He stepped forward, brandished his wand, and said, “ _Expecto patronum_!”_ _

__It wasn’t exactly a happy memory, not in the moment it had happened, but in memory, it was a moment Harry cherished._ _

__He remembered the night of his eleventh birthday, when his parents, Uncle Remus, Sirius, and Hagrid had all sat down to tell him about how he got his scar, the real story, and about how his parents had nearly died. At the time, he hadn’t understood how hard that conversation had been. But since then, he’d had his nightmares about the night Voldemort attacked his parents. He’d seen it happen when the dementors came too close. He’d seen how certain people had been hurt by the war, and as he’d grown, he’d begun to notice his parents’ quieter moments, and how distant they could get without meaning to._ _

__He felt emboldened by the trust they put in him. They’d told him how he’d gotten his scar, even though it hurt them, even though they didn’t want him to see how much they were hurt. They wanted to love and protect him, but they’d been vulnerable with him for the first time on that night. They’d believed in him, and that faith made him feel more loved than anything else._ _

__A stag charged at the dementor about to suck out Harry’s soul. Then it was joined by a silver doe, who circled Harry, Sirius, and Regulus Black. The silver deer galloped together across the water until all the dementors were gone._ _

__Then the stag cantered back at Harry. It looked over its shoulder at the doe, and so did Harry, stunned to see the second patronus trotting towards Snape._ _

__Then Hermione grabbed him and pulled him into the trees._ _

__“You can’t be seen,” she hissed at him. “Did Snape see you?”_ _

__“I don’t think so,” Harry said, squinting through the trees as his Patronus vanished, leaving the lake surprisingly dim in the light of the full moon._ _

__Snape was looking suspiciously at the trees, then his Patronus vanished, and he conjured a stretcher that slipped underneath Harry’s limp body._ _

__“He probably thinks it was my dad,” Harry said, remembering the question he’d heard Snape ask when he first woke up in the hospital wing. “As much as I want to show him how wrong he is--”_ _

__“Harry, don’t.”_ _

__“I know, I know.” Harry tucked his wand into his robes. “We need to get closer to the castle, make sure we know when it’s time to rescue Regulus.”_ _

__They walked through the woods, towards the castle, as quietly as they could, both aware there was still a werewolf wandering the grounds._ _

__Hermione looked down at her watch. “We have forty-five minutes until Dumbledore locks us in.”_ _

__“How will we know when it’s time?” Harry asked._ _

__They watched Snape take five stretchers up to the castle and Hermione from the past followed after him._ _

__“I can’t believe he wouldn’t listen to you,” Harry whispered. Harry also couldn’t believe that Snape, of all people, had a doe for a Patronus. Remus had said that a Patronus was an expression of all your happy thoughts. How could Snape’s be the same as his mother’s?_ _

__“Snape really hates Sirius,” Hermione said. “And did you see the way he talked to Regulus? I don’t think they like each other very much either.”_ _

__“Yeah, but that doesn’t make it right,” Harry said. “I don’t like Snape, but I’m not going to send him off to Azkaban for--for--I don’t know, failing me in Potions.” Even as he said it, though, he thought it didn’t sound like the worst idea he’d ever had._ _

__“Dumbledore said it himself: Regulus isn’t entirely innocent.”_ _

__“But he changed his mind. He turned good.” Harry didn’t know if that was the right way to say it, but he desperately wanted to believe that someone who had made terrible decisions could make right ones later on._ _

__He thought of the way Remus sounded when he talked about the adventures he used to have with James and Sirius. They’d had fun and made stupid mistakes, terrifyingly stupid mistakes, but they’d grown up, and they’d raised Harry, and even though Harry didn’t think of himself as perfect, he was glad to have the family he did._ _

__If Regulus had made mistakes when he was young, but made the right ones as he got older, surely he deserved a second chance._ _

__“Look,” Hermione whispered. She pointed at a man coming out of the castle. Something silver glinted on his waist--an axe._ _

__“That’s Macnair, gone to get the dementors,” Harry said. “Now’s the time.”_ _

__Harry and Hermione climbed onto Buckbeak’s back. Hermione wrapped her arms around Harry’s waist, and Harry nudged his heels into Buckbeak’s side. The hippogriff took off soundlessly._ _

__“Oh,” Hermione said in a quiet voice and squeezed Harry. Harry could hear her muttering into his shoulders, “I don’t like this--oh, I really don’t like this--”_ _

__Harry wasn’t a fan either--he still preferred his broom--but he carefully led Buckbeak up to the tower using the rope lead. He stopped at the thirteenth window._ _

__Through the glass, he could see Regulus Black, seated calmly on the floor of the room. Harry wondered if he was waiting for them or reflecting on the end of his life. It was impossible to tell with his impassive face._ _

__“ _Alohomora_ ,” Hermione whispered, and the window sprung open._ _

__Regulus Black stood up at the sound, but there was no surprise on his face. He walked forward and seemed to understand without words what Harry and Hermione were there to do._ _

__“Dumbledore?” he asked, and Harry had the odd feeling that there was a sad note to Regulus’s voice, like maybe Regulus hadn’t wanted to be saved._ _

__“Yes. Climb on,” Harry said._ _

__Regulus didn’t hesitate. He climbed out the window and jumped onto Buckbeak with an ease that reminded Harry of a cat, but also reminded Harry of a star Quidditch player. Harry couldn’t imagine Sirius would have had a brother who played Quidditch and never mentioned it, but Harry couldn’t help but notice that Regulus was very well-built for a Seeker position. Harry filed the question away for later and steered Buckbeak up to the top of the tower where he and Hermione dismounted._ _

__“Thank you,” Regulus said to them both. “I trust the other two are alright?”_ _

__“They’re fine,” Hermione said. “You haven’t much time. You should go.”_ _

__“And Sirius?”_ _

__“Dumbledore said he’s taking care of it.”_ _

__“I see. Thank you, again. This won’t be the last we see of each other, Harry,” and Regulus took off on Buckbeak._ _

__Harry wanted to stay and watch, make sure they got away okay, but Hermione dragged him into the castle. “We only have minutes to get back in the infirmary,” she said._ _

__“Right.”_ _

__She threw the Invisibility Cloak over them and they slipped down the stairs--holding their breath as they passed Snape and the Minister._ _

__They arrived at the infirmary just as Dumbledore was about the lock the door._ _

__“Well?” he asked them._ _

__“We did it,” Harry said. “Regulus Black and Buckbeak are safe. And Sirius--”_ _

__“I will see to it immediately,” Dumbledore said. “Your parents should be arriving any moment and,” he paused, ear turned towards the hospital wing door, “yes, I think you’ve gone too. Get inside, I’ll lock the door.”_ _

__Harry and Hermione quickly slipped into the infirmary and into their beds. Hermione tucked her Time-Turner into her pocket, the lock on the door clicked, and Madam Pomfrey walked back into the ward, hands on her hips. “Did I hear the headmaster leaving? Am I allowed to look after my patients now?”_ _

__She was incredibly fussy, and Harry and Hermione didn’t protest her care in the slightest. Harry ate every piece of chocolate she gave him, and Hermione accepted her relaxing tea without protest._ _

__Then there was a loud shout. Footsteps pounded on the stairs above, growing increasingly louder._ _

__“What in Merlin’s name--” Madam Pomfrey said as the doors to the infirmary burst open._ _

__“YOU CAN’T APPARATE OR DISAPPARATE IN OR OUT OF HOGWARTS,” Snape was shouting as he stalked towards Harry. “OUT WITH IT, POTTER! WHAT DID YOU DO?”_ _

__The Minister was right on Snape’s heels. “See here, Snape, be reasonable. The door’s been locked this entire time.”_ _

__Dumbledore followed at a much slower pace. “Severus, I’m sure Madam Pomfrey would have heard if the students had left their bed. We were only gone ten minutes.”_ _

__Snape looked absolutely furious, but he turned his fury from Harry to Dumbledore. “And Sirius Black?”_ _

__“I believe in the absence of Regulus Black, his mind is beginning to clear. I think you’ll find he was as bewitched as the children, perhaps even by an Unforgivable Curse. You yourself testified that Regulus Black was quite skilled at Unforgivable Curses.”_ _

__Snape was seething, and seemed unable to move. “And James Potter?”_ _

__“Has been home with his wife and Rufus Scrimgeour since supper. I think, Severus, instead of looking for someone we trust to blame, and expecting them to be in two places at once, the more reasonable answer must be to assume that Barty Crouch is the one who helped Regulus Black escape. It seems we have two escaped prisoners to inform the Daily Prophet about.”_ _

__The Minister of Magic looked sickened by this realization. “The press will have a field day,” the Minister groaned. “I’ll be a laughingstock. Two escaped prisoners….” He shook his head._ _

__“And the dementors will be removed from the school?”_ _

__“Oh, yes, they’ll have to go. I never dreamed they’d attempt to administer the Kiss on an innocent boy…. Completely out of control… no, I’ll have them packed off back to Azkaban tonight…. Perhaps we should think about dragons at the school entrance.”_ _

__“Hagrid would like that,” said Dumbledore, and escorted Snape and Fudge from the hospital wing._ _

__“Well, I never,” Madam Pomfrey said. “Such disrespectfulness, from adults, no less!” She looked over at Harry and Hermione. “Finish that chocolate, then bed for you both.” She locked the infirmary door, still muttering to herself angrily. She paused only to check on Ron and Neville, then disappeared into her office._ _

__\--- --- ---_ _

__The next morning, when they were all released from the infirmary, Harry and Hermione quietly told Ron and Neville what had happened on a walk down to the Black Lake._ _

__Ron and Neville were shocked to hear about the Time-Turner, but glad to hear Regulus and Buckbeak were both safe. They spent the morning skipping rocks and seeing if any of them could get close to the giant squid’s tentacles, which were floating lazily in the warm sunshine offshore, while discussing where Regulus Black and Buckbeak might be hiding out._ _

__When they finally went in for lunch, Neville hung back. He tugged on Harry’s sleeve. “I just… I’m sorry I let Barty Crouch get away,” Neville said. “If I had been faster or, or not so scared maybe we could have caught him. I’m--I’m not a very brave Gryffindor.”_ _

__Harry blinked at Neville’s quiet confession. “Neville, you stood up to both Regulus Black and Barty Crouch when you thought they’d hurt your family. That’s incredibly brave.”_ _

__“But it didn’t do anything,” Neville said. “You still had to go and save Regulus, too, because I was stuck in bed because I let Crouch curse me.”_ _

__“He cursed Sirius too,” Harry said. “It really wasn’t because of you. Neville--you remember your boggart, at the beginning of the year?”_ _

__Neville’s red face went even darker. “Yeah.”_ _

__“Is Snape really your worst fear?”_ _

__He nodded._ _

__“Then you’re the bravest Gryffindor I’ve ever known. You face your worst fear every day. I think that says a lot.”_ _

__Neville looked completely stunned by this revelation. “Harry… how do you always know what to say?”_ _

__Harry shook his head. “I’m just telling you the truth.” But he thought that maybe, just maybe, Remus and Sirius had rubbed off on him in all the best ways._ _

And together, the four of them went up to the castle to feast in the red and gold banners of Gryffindor’s House Cup victory.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, comments and headcanons appreciated. <3


	22. Owl Post Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remus Lupin recovers after a taxing full moon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end of book three. My goodness. I never expected to make it this far. Many thanks to all of you who read this, because I wouldn't have gotten here without you. Thank you for all the wonderful comments, and a special thanks to my beta, ageofzero, who is available to me literally any time, and always gets chapters read in 48 hours and I cannot imagine asking for a better beta. This series would be nothing if they weren't there to help me.
> 
> This chapter in particular is dedicated to StoplightDelight, author of Against The Moon. To be very frank, if they had never stopped writing against the moon, I never would have needed to fill the vacuum in my soul that begs for marauders with this fic. The reflections Remus has in this chapter all reference back to StoplightDelight's amazing marauder era fic. I cannot recommend it enough.

Remus Lupin arrived in the infirmary only moments after Harry and his friends had been dismissed, which he was grateful for. He didn’t particularly feel like enduring Harry’s worried stares just yet. Remus loved how much Harry cared, but there were days when he looked too much like his parents, and Remus always hated seeing any of the Potters worrying about him. He couldn’t endure that after last night, not just yet.

Madam Pomfrey looked over him to be sure he’d sustained no serious injuries in his escapade last night. She confirmed that there was nothing more than a few scrapes and gave him a tea for his aches.

“Thank you,” he smiled, and buttoned up his shirt.

“I know you’re a bit old for it, but,” she kissed his forehead. “Thank you for coming to see me, even though you really didn’t need to. Only a few small cuts.”

“Better safe than sorry,” Remus said.

She laughed. “If only you’d had that perspective when you were smaller. I seem to recall a lot of ‘Madam Pomfrey, don’t trouble yourself.’”

“Hopefully we all get a little wiser as we age,” he said with a smile on the corner of his mouth.

There was a quiet knock at the door of the infirmary that made both Remus and Madam Pomfrey turn.

In the doorway stood Draco Malfoy, shoulders a little hunched, like he was trying to hide, and he couldn’t seem to look up at Remus or Madam Pomfrey.

“Is everything alright, dear?” Madam Pomfrey asked.

“I just wanted to talk to Professor Lupin,” Draco said.

Madam Pomfrey raised an eyebrow and Remus could tell she was instinctively going on the defensive for him.

“It’s alright, Poppy. I was just leaving anyway.”

Madam Pomfrey pursed her lips, then took away the empty mug and went back to her office.

Remus reached for his robes. “Is everything alright, Draco?”

Draco watched Remus pull on his robes, like he was looking for something specific, but Remus couldn’t guess what.

“Professor Snape said something very interesting at breakfast today,” Draco said. “He said you… He said you had resigned.”

“I have. First thing I did this morning, in fact.”

“Why?”

And Remus could tell from the glint in Draco’s eyes that Snape had said a little more than just that Remus had resigned, that Draco knew the truth; he was only waiting for Remus to lie to him.

Remus let out a heavy sigh. “It’s actually a rude question to ask someone, Draco--”

“Is it true that you’re a werewolf?”

“You actually completed the extra credit essay. You tell me.”

Draco turned his wand over in his hands and Remus wondered briefly if he should reach for his own wand--then remembered that his wand had wandered off with Barty Crouch, Jr., and that was probably the worst wound to come from everything that had happened the night before.

“You disappear for a day or two before or after the full moon,” Draco said quietly, “and you always look so sick when it happens. I don’t know if you have scars and I don’t pay attention to what you eat but when Professor Snape said it this morning it made sense and I just wanted you to tell me he was lying.”

“He wasn’t lying.” There was no echo in the infirmary, but Remus felt sure his words rang for minutes after they were spoken.

Draco tightened his grip on his wand and pointed it at Remus. “You were my--you were a _teacher_. Dumbledore let you teach?”

Remus remembered a similar moment when he was twelve years old, and his friends had approached him with wands brandished, demanding to know why Dumbledore had let a werewolf attend school. Then, Remus had been terrified that he would lose everything, and in the end he’d gained three friends he could trust with anything. Now, Remus didn’t feel an ounce of fear. He felt sad, but unsurprised. He’d imagined it was only a matter of time before Snape broke his promise to Dumbledore. He had known that if Draco Malfoy ever found out, Draco would not take the truth like Remus’s friends had.

But he also knew that some small part of him had always wanted to believe in the best of Draco Malfoy, as he had gotten to know the best of Sirius Black.

“When I’m human,” Remus said, “I’m not a danger to anyone. If you learned anything in my class this year--”

“I learned how to fight monsters.”

“Draco, do I look like a monster?”

Draco’s wand arm shook. “Not right now, but--”

“Monsters come in many forms. Sometimes their appearances are deceiving. If you truly think I am a monster, I know you know what spells to use right now. Your essay on defeating werewolves was well-done and received full marks.”

Remus knew that Draco Malfoy was probably too confused to use a proper spell, especially an unpracticed and complicated one. He also knew that Madam Pomfrey was only a few meters away. But he still hoped, beyond all reason, that Draco could somehow trust him, even after all this.

Draco lowered his wand. “Don’t contact me ever again, or I’ll tell my father,” and he turned on his heel and left.

Remus let out a deep sigh and rubbed his forehead. He didn’t know how he could have expected that to go any better.

He didn’t have much of an appetite for breakfast, so instead he went to pack up his office. He was surprised to find Dumbledore waiting for him with a slip of parchment Remus recognized as the resignation letter he’d left in Dumbledore’s office just a few hours earlier.

“I’m glad to see you’re feeling better,” Dumbledore said.

“You can’t talk me out of leaving,” Remus said as he began to empty his desk.

Dumbledore hesitated, then rolled the piece of parchment up and stood. “It was worth a try, Remus. I need someone here that I can trust, someone who can protect Harry. It’s important now more than ever.”

“Now that Barty Crouch has escaped.” Remus sighed, remembering the prophecy Trelawney had given Harry just yesterday. 

Dumbledore stroked his beard. “And if what Regulus Black told me is true, we may not have as much time as we thought.” 

When Remus was a boy, he’d imagined Dumbledore to be a bit like the Merlin in fairytales. Dumbledore had a twinkle in his blue eyes, and a sagacity that made him seem omniscient. But as the war had increased in violence, and Remus had gotten closer to Dumbledore outside of their relationship as student-teacher, he’d learned that sagacity came with the cost of years of pain and mistakes. He’d learned that the blue twinkle in Dumbledore’s eyes was for children who still had wonder, but it vanished in the presence of hardened adults and became a steel grey. They were that steel grey now.

“What did Regulus Black tell you?” 

“Disturbing things about Lord Voldemort and his plans during the war. It seems that Voldemort's return will be inevitable, as we feared, especially now that he has the help of one of his most loyal servants. If that does not convince you to stay….”

“I could have hurt a student last night. It’s too easy for mistakes to be made, no matter what precautions I take. And I won’t have you fending off all the Howlers you’d receive for keeping me on. You’ll have enough as it is with my resignation.”

“Very well,” Dumbledore said, voice heavy. “I wish you all the best. I trust you heard about Regulus Black’s thrilling escape?”

“I can’t imagine how you managed it.”

“I did very little, believe it or not. But I think it is important that he have a place to stay. I’m sure you know a life on the run is no life at all.”

Remus had had his fair share of “life on the run” during the war, and so had Lily and James. It wasn’t easy, and from what he remembered of Regulus Black during their time in school, Regulus could be about as subtle as Sirius when it came to secrets.

“I think I have an idea. I’ll speak with Sirius about it.” Remus glanced at the small clock on his desk. “If he’s properly given his statement, he should be by to collect me in just a few hours.”

“Let us hope, for all our sakes, that he has told the Wizengamot all about the horrors of being Imperiused, and he will be released shortly. And James’s character reference will go a long way, of course. They still respect him quite a bit there, Order of Merlin aside, if only for his family name.”

Remus gave Dumbledore a thin smile, thinking how nice it must be to have a name that could get anyone out of trouble, anyone except him. His name got him into quite a bit of trouble.

“If anyone can convince Sirius to do something sensible, it’s James.”

“Should I ask him to convince you to stay?”

Remus shook his head.

“I am sorry, Remus. I know you made a difference for these children.”

And Remus suddenly remembered a very similar conversation he’d overheard between Dumbledore and one of the many other Defense Against the Dark Arts teachers he’d had while he was in school. She’d been his favorite professor, and he realized, all at once, how much she’d influenced him in his teaching. He wondered if he’d left that impact on any of his own students, but he couldn’t honestly imagine how.

“Thank you, Headmaster. I am and have always been grateful for the opportunities you’ve given me.”

Remus finished packing his desk into his briefcase and that seemed a final enough act for Dumbledore.

“You will always be welcome here,” he said as he left, but to Remus they felt like words said to placate a situation that couldn’t be placated, like the way Dumbledore had spoken to Severus on that awful night.

Remus shook those memories out of his head and made sure his trunk was all in order. He had been prepared for the end of the year, knowing the full moon would be close to the final day, so there wasn’t much packing to do. He only made sure all final exams were scored properly, then took his trunk down stairs, passing by the students at lunch. He nearly ran into Harry at the Entrance Hall.

“I just heard from Percy. You’re really leaving?” Harry asked.

Remus smiled. “I’ll see you at home, Harry.”

“But you can’t go. You’re the best teacher we’ve ever had, better than Mum--”

“I’m the most dangerous teacher you’ve ever had.”

“You didn’t let loose a herd of Cornish pixies on the classroom and tell us to clean it up ourselves.”

“I don’t expect you to understand--”

“I do understand,” Harry said, “but I don’t think it’s right.”

Those were hard words for Remus to hear. They were words Remus had thought when he was seventeen and eighteen, when James and Sirius had convinced him that he was something worth fighting for, and then at twenty-one, reality had set in, and Remus learned that the world didn’t work on what was right and wrong. The world went on as the people around chose to go on, and he could do his best but it wouldn’t always be right.

“There are many battles to be fought in the name of right and wrong. You must choose the most worthy ones, just as you did last night.”

Remus knew the glint in Harry’s eyes, a glint he had seen in Lily’s so often. James was the one people assumed was wild and uncontrollable, but those people had never seen Lily confronted with injustice. Harry had that same fierceness now.

“What did Snape mean when he said he wasn't the only one who believed Sirius had betrayed my parents? It wasn't about when he learned your secret, was it?”

Remus sighed heavily. “Another time, Harry. Not here in the hallway. For now, though,” Remus dug into his robes and handed Harry the Marauder’s Map, “I think now that I’m not a teacher, I can return this to you. I think you can make good use of it.”

Harry looked like he was torn between a thank you and a protest. Finally, he managed, “I’d rather you stay.”

Remus shook his head. “Go enjoy your feast with your friends. If you need to, we can talk about it at home.”

Harry nodded, then went back into the Great Hall.

Remus made it out of the castle without running into anyone else. He did say his goodbyes to Hagrid, who was on his way back from Hogsmeade. He congratulated him on Buckbeak’s escape from the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures, and Hagrid gave him his condolences about the resignation. It was a pleasant walk the rest of the way, even though he was alone. It was nice that there were no more dementors patrolling the borders of the castle.

Remus made it to the front steps of James’s cottage when Sirius threw open the door before Remus could even lift his hand to the handle.

Sirius was, expectedly, furious. His face was like a storm as he took Remus’s bags from him. “James is finishing up lunch,” and there was so much restrained rage in his voice that Remus knew the court trial must have gone as well as they’d all hoped.

“Congratulations on being a free man,” Remus said, and shrugged himself out of his robes.

“Freedom on a lie is as terrible as being unjustly imprisoned.”

“I think I disagree.” But Remus had a small smile on his lips as he watched Sirius fume. It was good to see Sirius behaving the way he expected Sirius to behave. It was like knowing the world was in order.

“Are you still going on about it?” James called from the kitchen. He came out with two plates and handed one to Sirius. It looked like a sandwich. He handed Remus a plate with a thick slab of undercooked steak. “Honestly, Sirius, it’s not forever. Just until we catch Barty Crouch, and then everything can be set straight. It’s a temporary fix. The truth will always out. Besides, you didn’t exactly make it easy for us, running off with Regulus Black for months without actually telling anyone what you were doing or why.”

Sirius didn’t argue as he ate the food James gave him, but his expression seemed stuck on sulking.

Remus sat down at the table in the living room with his plate. As a boy, it would have made him uncomfortable to eat raw meat in front of his friends, but now he knew he could trust them, and he didn’t mind at all.

James sat down beside Remus with a sandwich of his own. “Lily and I will probably sell this place, since we don’t really need to be this close to Hogwarts anymore. It was nice to have, but Remus, if you’re not staying on, we don’t have much need for it.”

Remus glanced over at Sirius. “I wouldn’t sell it just yet. Unless Sirius has somewhere else to stay?”

James tilted his head. “Sirius, what’s wrong with your flat?”

Sirius’s face went red and he hastily took another bite of his sandwich.

“Sirius got evicted in January. It’s part of why he started spending so much time here. It wasn’t just because of me and Regulus.”

“How’d you find out?” Sirius said, still clearly irritated.

“It wasn’t hard,” Remus shrugged. “You moved quite a few of your things here. And I know that Firebolt you bought Harry wasn’t cheap.”

James nearly choked on his sandwich. “You spent all your money on Harry’s Firebolt? Merlin, Sirius, we would’ve gotten him a Nimbus.” James shook his head in disbelief. “How do you spend the entirety of the Black family fortune in seven years?”

Sirius shrugged his shoulders. “It’s easy when you don’t want it.”

“Now what are you going to do? I mean, of course Lily and I won’t sell, you two can stay here and manage the place for us. That’ll count as rent and--”

“Actually,” Remus said slowly, knowing this was going to be hard for Sirius to take, but he wanted the idea to catch, “I was thinking that Regulus would need a place to stay.”

“He can’t stay in Hogsmeade,” Sirius snorted.

“No, I was thinking he ought to stay somewhere a little more... outside the Ministry’s reach.”

Sirius sulk gave way to a very dark scowl. “The property’s in my name, thanks to that paperwork the two of you had him sign several years ago. He can’t stay there without me.”

“I know,” Remus said. “Maybe it’ll be better that way.”

James shook his head. “So Lily and I are selling the cottage? I’m confused.”

Sirius said, “Remus wants me to move back into my mother’s house with Regulus.”

“Oh,” James said. “Remus, I’m not sure….”

“It’s a good idea,” Sirius said, voice flat. “The Ministry won’t be able to touch him there. It’d be as safe as hiding out on the continent, anyway. I’ll send an owl tonight.” He set down the rest of his sandwich and stood. “I’m not very hungry anymore, but thanks.”

James watched Sirius leave with a frown. “Remus, you know going home is the last thing Sirius wants to do.”

“I think living with Regulus will be good for them both.”

“Then I’ll buy them a cottage in Ireland, but I can't let him go back to his mother’s house.”

“It isn’t just that,” Remus said. “Voldemort’s returning. Sibyl Trelawney issued a prophecy yesterday to Harry--”

“Merlin’s pants--Another prophecy?” James sank into the couch, expression and posture images of utter defeat . “Why?”

Remus ignored the “why” partially because he had no idea what the answer really was, and partially because he knew James was only whining. “Barty Crouch’s escape last night will aid Voldemort’s return. We’ll need to be ready. We’ll need to have a place the Ministry can’t touch.”

“You want Sirius and Regulus to turn their family home into a base for the Order. Did Dumbledore suggest that?”

“Dumbledore didn’t say nearly so much, but I have a feeling we’re going to need somewhere like last time very soon. And not only somewhere the Ministry won’t touch, but somewhere that won’t involve Harry.”

James ran his hand through his hair, shoving his bangs back. “I don’t want to keep lying to Harry. We’ll have to tell him soon. Maybe this summer....” James turned to stare out the window as a tawny brown owl approached the glass. It tapped its beak against the glass anxiously.

When Remus realized James was too lost in thought to even see it, he got up to let the owl in.

He’d expected it to be Lily writing to James, but instead the parchment was addressed to him.

He broke the seal and pulled out the letter. He was surprised to find a picture of a wolf inside, with the ink charmed to run in a circle, chasing its own tail, then pause to howl at a full moon. It repeated on a loop, and Remus was impressed with the spell work, though embarrassed by its content. He turned the picture over and read,

“Dear Professor Lupin,

We already miss you. You were the best Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher we ever had. I hope next year we get a vampire. We wish you the best.”

It was signed by several of his students in Gryffindor, and suddenly the charmed ink made sense. Dean Thomas was always very good at charming pictures. He had a promising career as a portrait-maker, if he wanted.

He looked over the signatures, unsurprised to see Harry’s in there, or Anne and Christian Thelborne’s, but there were other signatures he was surprised to see. Like Neville Longbottom and Ron Weasley. Fred, George, and Ginny had signed it as well as Hermione and Seamus and Lee and Oliver and at least half of his students in Gryffindor, as well as a few of his N.E.W.T. students in other houses. Not quite all, but nearly all. He was overwhelmed by the sentiment, and when James asked what was wrong, all he could do was pass the paper to him.

James laughed at the drawing. “That’s pretty neat. I bet it’ll cheer Sirius up, at least.” He looked up at Remus again. “You sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine,” Remus said, though his voice sounded a little distant to him. He hadn’t dreamed that his students had cared that much about him. This, as much as it made him want to stay, reminded him that he couldn’t. He could have hurt any one of these students last night, and he never would have been able to forgive himself.

“I’ll be back in a minute.” He went into the kitchen and poured himself a glass of water. He didn’t drink it, though, not right away. He stood at the kitchen sink, leaning against the counter, unsure how to process the letter.

Then the kitchen door opened and Remus prepared to compose himself for James, but it wasn’t James who walked in. It was Sirius, stomping mud off of his boots and carrying a box of butterbeers. He hadn’t noticed Remus yet.

“I’m sorry,” Remus started quietly, before Sirius could notice, and ask him what was wrong. “I shouldn’t have suggested your parents’ house. I know that’s not somewhere you ever want to go back to.”

Sirius looked up, all the rage strangely gone from his face. But Sirius’s moods changed from one to another in the time it took a Snitch to cross half of a Quidditch pitch. It was hard to know what really bothered Sirius and what would blow over in minutes.

“It’s alright,” Sirius said, but his voice was still a little hurt. “It makes sense, and I think Regulus will like that idea.”

“You can stay with me any time you like. If you need to get away, or take a break from your brother, you can just visit me.”

“Where will you stay? You don’t have a place to live either. I know you won’t stay here, not so close to the school.”

In the way that Remus knew offering Sirius the idea of Grimmauld Place had been a mistake, Sirius knew that Remus would never stay another night in Hogsmeade.

“I’ll find a new flat, I guess. Something I can afford. I’ve saved up a bit this year.”

“Let’s make a deal,” Sirius said. “You stay three nights a week at Grimmauld Place. That’ll make the mausoleum more bearable.”

“What’s the point in paying for my own flat if I’m not there half the time?”

“Then spend the other four with James and Lily. They won’t mind. Harry would love to have you.”

Remus considered it. They could use Sirius’s house for the full moon. Regulus and Sirius could both turn into animals and wouldn’t be bothered by him at all. He imagined Sirius relished the idea of having a werewolf sleeping in his mother’s house. If that was what made it bearable to return home, Remus would give it to him.

“Alright, fine. Three nights with you, and four with James and Lily. If James and Lily don’t mind.”

Sirius laughed, because they both knew James and Lily wouldn’t hesitate to offer their home to Remus.

Remus took a sip of his water and started back towards the living room. Sirius wasn’t far behind. They sat down together and James brought out a game of Exploding Snap. Sirius opened up three bottles of butterbeer for them, and Remus thought it was almost like when they were kids, when Remus had hours to himself in the hospital wing and his friends would come by to entertain him. They were short one member of that party now. One member who had nearly killed James, Lily, and Harry, but in the end, and saved them all.

He glanced at his letter on the table and thought about how lucky he was, to have people who cared so much for him. He’d never have a way to repay them for everything they’d done for him. And there was a strange comfort in knowing they would never ask him to.

\--- --- ---

Dear Regulus,

If I remember anything about growing up with you, I think I know that a life on the run won’t suit you, and that you’d much prefer a warm fireplace and somewhere you can stay well-groomed.

I own all titles to our family fortune and property. Or, owned, at least, the fortune part. There’s no more money. But I do still have the property. Thought about selling it a lot, but never could manage to wish that pit of hell on anyone else, for any amount of money, so it’s still in my name after all this time.

I’ll be waiting there for you, if you want somewhere to stay, somewhere the Ministry has traditionally held no jurisdiction.

See you soon.

Sirius

\--- --- ---

Dear Ronald,

I’m sorry about all the trouble I caused between you and your sister. I know fighting between siblings can be bad enough without pets causing additional strife.

I did, however, enjoy being a cat in your Common Room. Especially all the extra ham. Seeing how I’ve cost you and your sister a pet, I’ve enclosed a few sickles for you to get Ginny her own cat. And for you, Ron, this owl is quite an energetic little thing that needs a good, caring owner. I think you’ll suit him well.

I hope you all have an excellent summer.

Sincerely,

Regulus Black

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be no extended break for Goblet of Fire. I'm already quite ahead of myself and the story will begin next week, like any other chapter update.
> 
> Headcanons and comments appreciated as always. And if you have any lingering questions about Regulus, Barty, Snape, Remus. Sirius, or anyone, or anything be sure to ask them! I do have some things withheld intentionally, but I also want to be sure I haven't missed anything. Thank you all so much for everything. I'm so grateful for all of you.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments, headcanons, and critiques are always appreciated!


End file.
